The Hands of Fate
by Ami L. Mendal
Summary: Dumbledore was asking her to leave everyone she loved, everything she knew, and go back nearly 21 years to save the Wizarding World. "I cannot stress this enough, Miss Granger: the world as we know it will be in your hands." (Time-travel fic. Rating for language and possible adult scenarios. HG/SB)
1. Once and For All

**Author's Note: **This story begins in year six, during the _Half-Blood Prince._ I have done extensive research for this fic, and I truly hope it shows. This chapter will stick to the original story as much as possible; you'll know when this changes. Parts of THIS CHAPTER may feel rushed, as I do not want to write chapters from the actual book on here (HELLO copyright infringement!), but there will be summaries so you know what part of the book everything is taking place. (Hope that made sense….) The rest of the chapters will not be so boring lol

-.-.-

Harry was just exiting Dumbledore's office after witnessing Katie Bell being cursed with a strange, dark necklace. It had been a very peculiar day, and it only got more bizarre when the Headmaster had asked for Harry to send Hermione to his office.

Entering the Great Hall during a Hogsmeade weekend was eerie. With most students visiting the nearby village, the vast room was much less vibrant and boisterous. Harry spotted his two friends at the Gryffindor table, picking at the food on their plates half-heartedly. He took a seat next to Hermione, across from Ron. Secluded from the other Gryffindors, whom mostly consisted of first and second year students, Harry didn't feel the need to whisper.

"Dumbledore wants to speak with you, Hermione," he said, grasping a nearby goblet of pumpkin juice.

The odd looks he received made him shrug. Harry explained what he and Professor Dumbledore had spoken of, sure not to leave anything out. When he finished, Hermione excused herself and made her way to the gargoyle guard.

She didn't know the password; she could count the number of times she had been to the Headmaster's office, and as any protected room would be, the password would have changed from the last she knew it to be.

"Acid Pop? Canary Cream? Fudge Flies? Ice Mice? Pixie Puffs?" At last, the gargoyle sprang to life, permitting her entrance to the grand office. The door was slightly ajar, and she wasn't sure if she should knock. Deciding he was expecting her, she slipped into the Headmaster's office.

Upon entering, she noticed Dumbledore was pacing a wicked track into the stone floor. Shoe scuffs had made worn-marks on the spot in front of his Pensieve, and Hermione was sure he had gone through several pairs of shoes this way.

His warm purple robes billowed behind him, his white beard tucked into his belt and he stroked his chin in deep thought. Hermione caught a look of worry in his normally-twinkling eyes. As he turned to repeat the steps he just made, she quietly cleared her throat.

"Oh, Miss Granger! So glad you could join me at such short notice. Please, do sit down." He said, extending his hand towards the seat in front of his desk. Hermione complied at his request, and he sat in front of her, holding a Sugar Quill in his hand.

"Would you like anything, Miss Granger? Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean? Licorice Wand?" he offered.

She smiled politely and declined. "No thank you, Professor. I don't think-… I don't think I could possibly stomach anything at a time like this." She said, nervously. _Poor Katie_, she thought. "Harry said you wanted to speak with me?"

The elderly man nodded, seeming almost grim. "Yes, Hermione, I do. It appears we need to have a discussion."

The bushy-haired girl waited for him to elaborate. Had she done something wrong? Did Dumbledore know about Harry's dangerous Potions book and, in turn, know who it belonged to? With a thousand questions running through her mind, the Headmaster finally spoke again.

"Miss Granger, you are a Gryffindor. While you are incredibly brilliant as a Ravenclaw, and as loyal as a Hufflepuff, the Sorting Hat chose Gryffindor. I have no doubt that it chose correctly, and I must ask if you feel the same."

Hermione had thought of this many times in her years at Hogwarts; through all her experiences, good and bad, surely the Sorting Hat was right? Studying immensely, standing by her friends… None of it measured up to the bravery she must harness inside her?

"Professor, I don't understand why this is suddenly a topic of discussion-"

"Please, Hermione, indulge an old man for a moment, won't you?" he said, the twinkle in his blue eyes returning behind those half-moon glasses, a smile forming on his wrinkled face.

She nodded, "Yes, sir. I-" she paused, needing to organize her thoughts before opening her mouth again. "I have always wondered what the Sorting Hat saw in me. Then again, other students must hold qualities of other houses as well? I think the wise old Hat knows what it's doing. It knows its job." She finished, content with her choice of elaboration.

Dumbledore's smile grew, "I'm glad you say that, Miss Granger." His lips slowly, _slowly_ faded into a thin line. He sighed, hoping never to have to elaborate on this subject ever again.

"I must ask something of you, Hermione, and I do hope you will not reiterate this to anyone."

A shock ran through her, and she knew what he meant. _Tell no one? Not Harry? Not Ron? A secret from the two people she trusted most in the world…_ With the quiet seeping into her, Hermione nodded.

"Yes, Professor. I will repeat this to no one."

The Headmaster closed his eyes, softly sighing through his nose. The Sugar Quill in his fingers becoming an annoyance and he set it down atop a stack of parchment.

His voice was slow, soft, and dripping with worry. "There may come a time when I ask something of you. I may ask something very, _very_ difficult. I need to know-" he stopped, gathering his logic, "I need to know if you will do it. Do you trust me, Hermione? Do you trust a weary old man, at his wits end, and do what needs to be done? No matter the task? No matter the consequences?"

Hermione felt as though she couldn't breathe. She was drowning, she was sure of it. Her blood was like ice coursing through her veins, and Hermione wondered if this was how Harry felt after a meeting with Dumbledore.

Mouth gaping, she quickly shut it to keep from looking like a fish._ It must be something he can't trust Harry with…but why can't he trust Harry? What would keep Harry from being the one to do this task?_ And then logic hit her. _Death. _If Harry dies, she will be the one to continue the mission, whatever the mission was.

"You are the only one who could do it. You are the only one smart enough to figure out the best course of action, logical enough to put your feelings aside to get it right, and although I am sure young Mister Weasley would do his best, I cannot fully be sure he would do it right." Dumbledore added, hoping to get some sort of response.

Hermione swallowed her fear and gathered her Gryffindor courage. "Of course, Professor. I would do anything you ask of me. I trust you." She said simply.

A sad smile formed on the Headmaster's lips and he nodded. "I knew I could count on you, Miss Granger. I know-" he sighed again, more tired now, "I know this is very cryptic and confusing, and I truly hope I never have to touch this topic again. I hate to put such pressure on you, and Harry as well of course, but the world needs to escape this havoc and destruction. It has been far too long since this world has known true peace.

"I wish I could do it myself," he continued, "but I am only a man, after all, and an old one at that." His blue eyes had lost the twinkle again, and the silence was deafening.

Questions buzzed through Hermione's mind, but none of them would sit still long enough for her to voice them. She swallowed her fear and confusion, for now.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and stood, a forced smile forming on his tired face. "No more of this cagey conversation, I'm sure you have something better to be doing. But please, if you ever feel the need to speak to someone, I do hope you will come to me. My doors are always open. Figuratively speaking, of course." He said, his eyes twinkling once more.

Hermione understood a dismissal when she saw one, and stood up to leave. At the door, Dumbledore politely reminded her of one thing.

"Remember, Miss Granger. This conversation is to be kept private." She turned to him and nodded silently before exiting.

-.-.-

Weeks went by and time was filled with homework, studying, Quidditch, and Harry's obsession with Draco Malfoy's strange behavior.

A few days after New Year's, Dumbledore asked Harry to retrieve a memory from the Potions professor. The rest of January and all of February passed with little excitement, and when March finally set in, things were getting dark.

The Hogsmeade weekend set for Ron's birthday had been canceled. The only interesting events occurring were Apparition lessons. On March 1st, a small stack of presents were opened by Ron, including a watch from his parents and new Quidditch gloves from Harry. While the raven-haired boy studied the Marauder's Map, Ron had begun enjoying a box of chocolates, and suddenly he was obsessed with Romilda Vane.

The fact that it was a Saturday, Harry had to wake Slughorn for help. A quick antidote, followed by a drink to Ron's birthday, and the three men found themselves in quite a trite. Ron was on the floor, contorting in unnatural ways, foam puddled in his mouth before dripping out the sides.

Ron was still in the Hospital Wing when the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff occurred. Harry cracked his skull and the Gryffindor team lost, 320 to 60.

-.-.-

The weather was beginning to turn, and Harry could feel the beginnings of summer approach. While Ron avoided any female that even looked like Lavender, a tearful letter came, and Hagrid's scrawled handwriting shared the news of Aragog's death. Harry, taking a swig of the Felix Felicis he won in the first Potions class of the year, went to the funeral that evening. He ran into Professor Slughorn on the way, attempting to swipe some leaves of a plant from the Herbology greenhouses, and they attended the burial together, offering Hagrid another body to lean on during his sobs.

They drank to the arachnid's life and memory, and after thoroughly becoming pissed, the Potions professor gave Harry the memory Dumbledore requested him to retrieve. They relived the memory from the Pensieve.

The Headmaster explained all he was willing to share; the Horcruxes, their uses and even some of their identities were finally revealed to Harry. He left the grand office feeling enlightened yet confused, exhilarated and yet exhausted.

The morning shed more news for the raven-haired boy, as he learned Ron and Lavender broke up, but only after he explained everything that Professor Dumbledore had detailed.

The trio looked up to see Katie Bell entering the Great Hall, and they welcomed her back to the school. Granted, the older girl could not recall the events of the horrible day she was cursed, but she looked much healthier than when they saw her last, and they were glad for it.

Classes were slow and boring that day, although the bookworm would never agree to that.

Harry and Malfoy got into a duel in the loo, and Malfoy was taken to the infirmary. Snape did all that he could for the blond Slytherin, but Madam Pomfrey was a much better healer.

Harry had to hide his book, hide it where he no one would ever find it. Using such a curse on someone, even his enemy, was a dangerous move. If he didn't get rid of the evidence, he would certainly be expelled. Throwing it in the Room of Requirement, Harry took Ron's book to Professor Snape, and claimed it as his own. His actions in the bathroom racked him weeks of Saturday detentions.

-.-.-

**Friday. June 20, 1997.**

A very warm June evening crept upon quickly and tomorrow was the summer solstice.

"Miss Granger?" Someone was tapping her shoulder. "Miss Granger." More forceful now, and quite irritating… "Miss Granger, the Headmaster wishes to speak with you. Don't make me deduct points from my own House." The Scottish Transfiguration professor threatened.

Hermione's eyes opened, albeit dry and unwillingly, to the older woman. "Okay, Professor McGonagall. Yes, I'm up." The young girl stood and put her bed robe over her pajamas, slipping into her house shoes and following her Head of House to the familiar gargoyle.

It felt like just days ago she was here, but Hermione knew it had been quite a while. Was it weeks? No, it had been months… _Well, weeks turn into months when you calculate it out_, she thought to herself.

"Lemon Drops." McGonagall said, and the guard sprang aside for them. They climbed the swirling stairs to Dumbledore's office, and he kindly dismissed the Scottish professor.

"Miss Granger, I am so sorry to wake up from your slumber. I hope you realize I would never do such a thing unless absolutely necessary."

Hermione nodded, wiping the last of the sleep from her eyes and stifled a yawn as well as she could. "No worries, Professor Dumbledore, I am sure this is important."

The old man took a deep breath and twiddled his thumbs for a moment, before setting his hands in his lap and leaning back.

"I am sure you remember our conversation a while back..?"

"Yes, sir. And as promised, I haven't spoken a word of it to anyone." Hermione said, hoping he would sense her truthfulness.

"Of course, Miss Granger, I imagine nothing but loyalty from you. Now, this is where things have become very, ah, difficult for me." He paused, and she wasn't sure if he anticipated a response. Another moment of silence and she gave him a tired smile.

"Miss Granger, I must caution you." The Headmaster's voice was serious now, and Hermione's face fell into a concentration at his words. "You remember your third year, when you used a Time-Turner to take more classes?"

She nodded. "Yes, the Time-Turner can take one back up to twenty-four hours in the past." Hermione said, and the Headmaster's smile told her to stop before she needed to insert her foot into her mouth.

"And you remember the rules of Time Travel, of course…"

"A Time Traveler cannot be seen by their present self, or others who know them, in fear of causing a catastrophic hole in the timeline, ultimately causing havoc and usually death."

There was no gleam in the old professor's eyes, no smile on his face, and Hermione was sure that the next words that escaped his mouth would change the world she knew forever.

"There is another kind of Time Travel, unknown to all of the Wizarding World. It is more powerful than all of the Time-Turners in existence, and also more dangerous. It can send someone back thousands of years if they so wish, although it has never been used that far back." Hermione's eyes must've expanded to the size of tea saucers, but Dumbledore continued. "I am asking you, _begging you_, to consider using this when the time comes."

There was that feeling again. Had she not been staring at the Headmaster, Hermione would be sure that she was drowning in the icy Black Lake - no one to hear her, no one to save her.

"P-Professor?" she stuttered, unsure of what to say. What _could_ she say?

If Dumbledore heard her, he showed no sign of it. Instead, a black and shriveled hand pulled a necklace from his right robe pocket. The gold chain glimmered in the candlelight, a large Time-Turner hanging from it. No, that was much larger than a Time-Turner. It was at least twice the size, and would take up her entire palm. The substance inside was like nothing she had ever seen before. Where her old Time-Turner had crystal-white sand, this device had none. Instead, it seemed there was liquid gold inside the hourglass charm.

"The Hands of Fate can take one back farther than our mind can even imagine; days, weeks, months, years, decades, or centuries. With power like this, certainly you can understand why very few know such a thing even exists. In the wrong hands, the entire world could collapse. A man could go back to the time of the cavemen, and what would happen then? The infrastructure of our world breakdown, bit by bit, and everything mankind created would cease to be. No, no, its power is too great to share."

Hermione could tell, by the way the Headmaster spoke, this was no joke. When the time came, he was requesting her to go back in time. Farther than anyone had ever done before.

Swallowing this bit of information, she spoke, "But Professor, how did this device come to be? I thought it was impossible to go back further than a day? Magical law strictly states no human can change occurrences past twenty-four-"

"Miss Granger," he interrupted, "In all politeness, I am aware of the laws, having written quite a few of them myself… but only two people know of this item in question is in existence, and I would like it to stay that way."

"Who…Who knows about it, sir?"

"You, and me." He said simply. Hermione's mouth made an _O_ and she bit back any more questions.

The Headmaster handed her a small envelope, thin enough for only one slip of parchment. The wax seal was different than she'd ever seen before; expecting the red Hogwarts seal, Hermione was taken back at the loopy cursive of _A.P.W.B.D. _seal impressed on golden wax. Although it was a trivial thing, she never thought of the fact that Dumbledore would have his own seal. She pushed the menial point away and placed the envelope into her night robe.

"There are other changes as well, Miss Granger. This kind of Time Travel is tricky. A single person can only use this device once; there are no second chances. Also, the Hands of Fate will fit you into the era you travel to. You'll have a history there - a family, a home, a life of your own.

"You would have all the memories from _this_ life," he continued, using his finger to point at the present, "and discovering what the new ones are will prove to be a difficult task, but I know you could do it. Every action you make will change the course of time."

"But Professor, how will I know when to use it?" she asked, desperate for more solutions.

The elderly man gave a soft smile and let her question linger in the warm evening air. "Hermione, my dear Hermione. You are the brightest witch I have met in a _very _long time. When all hope seems lost…when it seems only darkness has clouded this world – I'm sure you will know exactly when."

Her eyes went to her lap, and she nodded silently. "I'm sorry for all the questions, Professor, but-"

"Oh, Miss Granger, please do not apologize for needing answers. I am putting a great weight on your shoulders, more than, I daresay, Harry himself. Please, ask anything."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, thinking of exactly how to word her next inquiry. "Sir, what will happen to, well, _now_? The present?"

Dumbledore nodded, the twinkle in his eyes gleaming through his half-moon glasses. "The events you remember, your memories from the present, will change with your every action. Every life you save, every obstacle you overcome, will alter the passage of time."

Silence stifled Hermione, and she sighed through her nose, feeling the enormous pressure upon her. She spoke up after a few moments of quiet, "There's just one thing that confuses me, sir. How do I go back in time if I exist in _this_ time? How does my presence in the past change anything if it's already been done?"

Dumbledore's hands were clasped together in front of his face; if his eyes had been closed, Hermione would think he was praying. Worried he didn't understand her question, Hermione elaborated. "I just mean… When I used a Time-Turner in my third year to save Buckbeak and Sirius, it had already had already happened. Harry had already conjured his Patronus theh first time, and then we went back to do it again…" This was all very confusing, and Hermione's head began to spin…

"This will be a different kind of magic, Miss Granger; an alternate timeline, so to speak. I can assure you, I have never met you before."

This seemed to be a good enough answer, because the young witch nodded. Her voice seemed to be lost, and she coughed lightly to find it again. "How do you… How do you know all of this, Professor?"

A knowing smile broke his unusually sad face. "I know it, because I've used it. And yes, I changed the world, but not nearly enough. No, not nearly enough…"

Dumbledore continued, "When the- _If_ the time comes, and you must use this element, you will need to be prepared." The Headmaster's tone was serious and foreboding. The tension in the air was palpable, and there was an intense strain on Hermione's heart. "Books, newspaper articles, anything you can think of that would point you in the right direction, take it with you. I cannot stress this enough, Miss Granger: the world as we know it will be in your hands."

The Headmaster handed her the overgrown Time-Turner, gave her a single nod, picked up a quill, and began scratching away at a stack of parchment. _Another dismissal_, she thought, standing to leave.

-.-.-

**Monday. June 30, 1997**

Hermione was stressed to the brim. Her gold and brown hair was even more matted and chaotic than it had ever been before. Frizz nearly stuck on its ends, and she fought tooth and nail to tame it to its normal wild look.

Before she knew it, the end of the school year was approaching. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, beating their opponents 450 to 140. She had witnessed Harry and Ginny's first kiss, though they hadn't been able to enjoy their relationship long. Reality always found a way to kick everyone in the gut.

Harry had disappeared. _With Professor Dumbledore, probably… Hopefully._ Hermione thought to herself, worrying for both of the men's safety. Evening had fallen quicker than she cared for, and there was a strange feeling in the back of her mind that something terrible was going to happen.

Heeding the Headmaster's warnings, Hermione waited until her dorm mates were in a deep sleep to go over the contents she would take with her, _Just in case_ she told herself.

She reached into her trunk and grabbed the small clutch she planned to take with her, placing it on her four-poster bed to examine.

Using an Undetectable Extension Charm, she'd been able to pack the most important _Daily Prophet_ clippings, up-to-date textbooks, and a few personal trinkets (including the small photo album she started in her second year, thankful to Collin Creevey and his silly camera). The massive Time-Turner and envelope sat carefully near the top.

A strange ruckus startled her, and her hand instantly went to her wand on the nightstand. Crookshanks was startled out of his sleep, curling his back and hissing at the dormitory door. The hairs on Hermione's neck raised, goosebumps crawled across her skin and she knew something terrible was happening.

Snatching her bag, Hermione rushed down the stairs, out of the Common Room and down to the Great Hall faster than she even thought possible. People were rushing past her, cries were echoing through the large entrance and students were clutching at each other as they exited the castle.

Dumbledore was dead.

She was wrong before. It wasn't when Harry died, it was now. She knew it was time. She reached into her clutch, grasped the two items she required, and stepped away from everyone, so as not to be seen.

Nervous hands wouldn't agree with her as she fumbled with the envelope. It ripped open, revealing the sliver of parchment inside.

Loopy handwriting carefully scrawled out her instructions.

_**6-2-11-1-2-0**_

_Days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries…_ she recalled. Hermione turned the dials accordingly, whispering the count aloud, careful to do it properly.

Dumbledore's voice rang in her ears. "_There are no second chances."_

Hermione saw colors swirl, everything melded into one and she was thrust into a world she had never imagined she would.

-.-.-


	2. Twice the Stakes

**Author's Note:** If you made it to chapter two, YOU ROCK! It all gets better from here. Pinky promise.

-.-.-

**Thursday. July 10, 1975.**

Hermione stood in a bedroom, presumably her own, in this life. It was tidy, just as her old one had been. Baby-pink walls enclosed her, and although her furnishings were only the necessary ones, they were beautifully ornate. The bedframe was of white iron, while the nightstand, armoire and desk were white-painted wood with white iron legs and feet. It was classy and tasteful, but reminded Hermione of a snobby hotel room.

She walked up to the writing desk by a window and picked up a newspaper she hoped was recent.

**TRAGEDY STRIKES LOCAL FAMILY**

_A young student, Hermione LaBaugh, 15, has been orphaned after a plane crash in Nantes, France kills her parents and 6 others. Antonio and Marie LaBaugh, originally from Cuckfield, West Sussex, England, were aboard a Beech 99 aircraft on July 2. The plane's itinerary states it was heading for Brest._

_A thorough investigation by local police department states, "Engine #2 failed, causing the aircraft to crash just after take-off before engulfing in flames."_

_The department's spokesperson offered this quote: "While we are happy to reveal the pilot was not intoxicated in any way, this disaster has affected us all. There is no evidence of foul play in or around the crash site. Our hearts go out to the victims and their families."_

_Hermione LaBaugh was the daughter of the pilot and stewardess. She is a student of an exclusive private school, and, as there was no next-of-kin listed in her parent's Last Will and Testament, she will be placed in an orphanage until she reaches legal age._

There was a still photograph of her parents, dressed cleanly in their uniforms. The paper was dated July 4th, 1975. According to the calendar on the wall she hadn't noticed before, today's date was Thursday, July 10th. _I've gone back almost twenty-two years,_ she thought to herself.

Hermione continued to rifle through the desk, looking for more clues as to what to do next. Her nervous fingers sent a neat stack of papers to the floor. As she picked it up, she noticed an envelope with familiar handwriting across the front.

_Dear Miss Hermione LaBaugh,_

_Upon speaking with the Minister of Magic, it has come to my attention that many Wizarding families have offered to take you in; this would eliminate an orphanage as your future home, if you so wish. After much skepticism and interviews, I have narrowed it down to five families._

_I hope to give you guidance in this decision. I have temporarily connected your fireplace to the Floo Network, and will arrive at quarter-past four in the afternoon, on the 10th day of July to discuss your options._

_Please accept my sincerest apologies for your loss, and remember: It does well to find light in the darkest of times, in fear of being encased in sorrow forevermore._

_Dutifully Yours,  
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore  
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

The familiar school seal was impressed onto red wax, and Hermione couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, Professor, you are always looking out for students, no matter what else on your plate." She said to no one.

As if the words just hit her, Hermione looked for a clock. It was just after three o'clock; she had time to look around and think of what to do next. She took another look around her room, noticing a white trunk in the corner next to the door. It creaked loudly as she raised the top, and peered inside hopefully.

The items inside were as neatly stacked and organized and the room it sat in. _Not unlike my old self_, she thought. Hermione rummaged through the contents, finding only textbooks, parchment and a few quills. Not a single picture, note, or keepsake found homage in her trunk. A sad lurch in her chest brought realization: Hermione didn't have any friends at her school.

School… her school… What school did she go to? The article had mentioned a private school, and curiosity ached inside her. She took the few steps towards the armoire and found light blue, silk dress robes neatly hanging there.

_Beauxbatons…_ Hermione's nose wrinkled in abhorrence. At least now she understood why she didn't have any friends. From what she remembered in her fourth year, Beauxbatons students were rather stuck up and, although very keen on politeness, found other ways to make someone feel lonely. She remembered the students being cold towards her fellow Hogwartians, save for the few who danced with Seamus and Parvati.

Hermione sat cripplingly on the foot of her bed, and sighed with nostalgia. She missed her friends: Harry and Ron the most. She missed her parents – her _real_ parents. She missed so much from her old life; silent tears began to stream from her eyes.

Sorrow overcame her, and Hermione lay down, snuggling with the feather-down pillow as she cried heavier. She may never see them again. Even if she does, she could never be _friends_ with them, more of an aunt, really.

A roar from downstairs brought her back to her senses. Hermione noisily blew her nose into a nearby handkerchief and wiped her eyes at an attempt to remove all evidence of her emotional breakdown. Hurrying to meet Professor Dumbledore, she took the stairs two at a time.

"Good afternoon, Miss LaBaugh. Pleasure to meet you, although I do wish it were under better circumstances." Said a warm, familiar voice. Hermione smiled, happy to see the Headmaster alive.

"Hello, sir. Thank you for coming."

"May we sit? I am getting rather old, you see."

"Oh, yes, of course, sir."

Dumbledore sat in a black and white gingham wingback chair, and Hermione settled herself onto the couch across from him.

"Beautiful home you have here, Miss LaBaugh. I do not wish to be impolite, but we do have rather important business to attend to." Hermione nodded with thin lips, and he continued. "As you'll remember from my owl, I have spoken to the Minister of Magic about your, ah, situation. As you are muggle-born, and no family members to speak of, an abundance of Wizarding families stepped up to take you in. This is, of course, your choice."

Hermione wasn't sure how to respond. "That's very kind of them, sir. I think-" she paused for a moment, and compared her alternate choice. "I think that would fit me very well." She gave him a weak smile. He returned the gesture, and a twinkle in his eyes brought comfort to Hermione.

"Excellent. Well, there were about twenty families to write to the Minister of Magic, but I have taken it upon myself to whittle it down to five." Dumbledore reached into his pocket, procured a file from it, and opened it. "These families include: the Langs, who have grown children now; the Quinces, have no children; the Longbottoms, they have a son a year ahead of you at Hogwarts; the Potters, a son in your year; and the Sorrell family, four children, three of which attend Hogwarts."

Dumbledore placed the file on the coffee table and rotated it to face Hermione. Pictures and parchments stared back at her, but she did not reach for them.

Hermione's thoughts were clouded with awe. _Longbottom? Neville's grandmother! Potter? Harry's family! _After a few deep breaths, she calmed her mind and spoke evenly."Sir, did any of the families from my previous school… er… Did any of them offer-" Dumbledore's expression turned solemn, and cleared his throat quietly.

"Well… No, Miss LaBaugh, they were," he seemed to choose his words carefully, "They were very touched by what happened to your family, but-"

"You don't have to be nice about it, Professor. I know I didn't have any friends there." It was the first time Hermione had ever interrupted the Headmaster, and was almost shocked at herself for doing so. _No matter,_ she thought, _the truth is better than a sugar-coated lie_.

Dumbledore said nothing, but glanced at the file between them. "All of the families before you are very nice, and have comfortable means of taking care of you. They are all prepared to take you in at a moment's notice."

Her eyes glistened with tears she refused to shed. Swallowing hard, Hermione spoke. "I've heard of a few of them," she said with a nod, "but know none of them personally. I would truly appreciate your guidance, Professor Dumbledore."

While his face was still sad, he offered a small smile to comfort her. "I would recommend the Sorrells, the Longbottoms, or the Potters. Family is a very important thing in my book, and I daresay you could use some love and attention at this very trying time."

Moments passed in silence as the gears in Hermione's head turned. Her plans to change time must be calculated with utmost consideration. More questions of this new life reeled her: Why was there no one as her parents' next-of-kin? What would happen to the house? Did she have to go to, (or in other's eyes, go _back_ to) Beauxbatons?

"The Potter family. I- I choose the Potters." Hermione said shakily.

"We can arrange for you to move as soon as you are ready, physically and emotionally. Also, seeing as you will be moving back to England, it would be against the schools' agreement that you continue to attend Beauxbatons."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "I'm sorry?"

"Hogwarts is for young witches and wizards who reside in Great Britain and Ireland." Dumbledore paused, looked thoughtful, and began to speak as if to himself, "Well, we've never had a transfer student, so perhaps we can make an exception? This is a rather gray area, have to check the by-laws and such…"

Hermione seemed to understand, "Not to worry, Professor. I have no problem transferring."

Dumbledore clapped his hands together and stood. "Excellent, excellent! Well, whenever you are ready, Miss LaBaugh, please feel free to owl me any time."

"How long?" she asked.

The Headmaster's eyebrows rose, but in alarm or confusion, she did not know. "Miss LaBaugh?"

"H-How long do you think it would take me to move there? I'd rather not stay here anymore. It… um… It's hard." she lied. "It's lonely and I could do with something to keep my mind off of everything."

Harry's voice reminded her that Dumbledore knew Legilimency, and she attempted to close her mind. _Blank, nothingness, absolute oblivion. _She doubted it worked; it would take months if not years of practice Occlumency, but it was worth a shot.

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and a House-Elf appeared with a distinct _pop_. "Zippy, please help Miss LaBaugh pack anything she wishes to take with her."

"Yes, sir, anything for Master Dumbledore, sir!" Zippy replied in a squeaky voice. He bowed low to the old wizard and stood giddy in front of Hermione.

Dumbledore smiled warmly, "Hermione, perhaps you can show Zippy the way to your room."

She bit her lip to keep from speaking, took the House-Elf upstairs and they packed quickly. The items fit easily into a set of wheeled luggage found in a hall closet: muggle clothes, travelling cloaks, school items, and anything that may have looked important in this new life. Just as the last possessions were stored away, Hermione stepped into the bathroom for any toiletries. She smelled the shampoo and bar of soap in the shower, but it was too flowery and she decided to leave it. With a final turn to grab her toothbrush, Hermione saw herself in the mirror for the first time.

Her usual golden brown, frizz-ball hair was slightly less wild; it was still crazier than most girls', but it was an improvement. There was more gold in it than she was used to (but deduced the southern France sun was the culprit) and it reached just passed her shoulders in the same usual curls. Her usual dirt-brown eyes were closer to a cinnamon with gold flecks, and her nose was slightly shorter. Light freckles dotted her cheeks – the same freckles from the childhood she remembered in her old life – but her cheekbones were slightly more prominent. All in all, she could recognize herself in the mirror, but the Hermione that hadn't been born yet could not be discerned easily to others who would know her in the coming years.

_I must have a different gene pool. Similar, maybe, or possibly a relative… _Zippy snapped his fingers and the luggage was downstairs. Hermione became aware of her surroundings again, grabbed the clutch with her 1997 items, and followed the stairs to the lower floor.

"Thank you, Zippy," she said with a large smile. "I really appreciate your help."

The House-Elf smiled wide and bowed to her, "Zippy is glad to be of service to the Headmaster and the students of Hogwarts. Zippy looks forward to seeing Miss Hermione LaBaugh at Hogwarts, yes he does!"

"That is all, Zippy, thank you." Dumbledore said softly. With final bow to Dumbledore, Zippy Disapparated with a _pop._

Dumbledore shrunk the luggage and white school trunk and put them in his pocket. "Have you ever used Floo Powder, Hermione?" She thought for a moment, which seemed too long for Dumbledore. "Perhaps Side-Along Apparition would be better." He offered his arm to her, and she took his elbow. "Hold very tight, dear, and try to keep your mind blank."

With the Apparition test still fresh in her mind, Hermione felt the familiar sensation overcome her. She felt as though she were being sucked into a rubber tube, slipping faster…faster…

-.-.-

"Charlus, oh, Charlus they're here!" a feminine voice called from the next room over.

"Coming, Dorea!" replied a hearty male one. Hermione released Dumbledore's elbow just as an older-looking witch came rushing in.

"Oh, you must be Hermione! I am so glad you have decided to come live with us, dear! So glad! _Charlus! _Are you coming?" she shouted.

Dumbledore placed the luggage and trunk on the floor and returned them to their original sizes.

"Right here, darling. Albus! Thank you so much for escorting her. Hermione, oh what a beautiful girl! Welcome, welcome. Please, don't be shy."

This was too much, far too much for her to take in right away. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were older than she expected them to be, each with heads of gray hair and warm, yet wrinkled faces. She tried to smile, but felt so strangely out of place.

"I'm Dorea Potter, and this is my husband, Charlus. We have a son too," she said, looking around, "but Merlin knows where he is right now. Probably practicing Quidditch in the backyard…" her voice drifted.

"Hello," Hermione said plainly. She wanted to be polite, but it was such a strange feeling, seeing Harry's grandparents, alive and healthy…

There was a stomping noise coming in through another door, and a boy came in covered in dirt and sweat. His hair was a mess of jet-black, crooked glasses sat on his nose hiding hazel eyes. _Harry! No... No, of course not! James._ Hermione's head was screaming. Her expression must have reflected her thoughts because Mr. Potter laughed.

"Don't be frightened, dear. That's just our son."

Mr. Potter walked towards James and clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Hermione, this is James, he's in your year. James, this is Hermione. This is the young lady we've been talking about. She'll be living with us from now on. Why don't you help take her things up while the adults talk?"

James smiled, grabbed the trunk and larger suitcase and headed up the grand staircase. Hermione took hold of the smaller piece and followed.

Twenty-two steps led them to a large hallway with doors on every side. The walls were a soft blue, decorated with beautiful landscape paintings. Wooden floors were muffled by a long, narrow rug running the length of the hall.

"This one's my room," James piped, pointing to the first door on the right. The door was white, but barely visible because of the 'Go Gryffindor!' and lion banners that adorned it. "Second door's a linen closet, third's a spare for guests. Your room is right across from mine. Past yours are more guest rooms and a loo. We both have our own loo and balcony. My parents are pretty loaded, so I'm spoiled," he added with a smirk. "Well, I guess they're _our_ parents now…"

James opened the door to Hermione's new room. The shock of it made her gasp loudly.

The sunlight streamed through the balcony's French doors, shining golden streams on the floor and walls. While there was only a bed against the left wall, the room was as spacious as her entire dorm room in Gryffindor Tower. And she didn't have to share it.

The room itself was at least forty feet long and thirty feet wide. When she walked in, a door immediately to the left was a full bathroom, complete with a white sink, toilet, and claw foot tub. There were built-in bookshelves on the right wall across from the bed, and although they were bare, Hermione couldn't wait to fill them. There was a small alcove in the middle of the bookshelves, a perfect spot for reading, if she ever found time in her new life. This bedroom was a clean slate, and she had a feeling Mr. and Mrs. Potter were going to press her to decorate as she wanted.

James set the trunk at the foot of her bed, and wheeled the suitcase into a door across from the bathroom, which she was right to assume was a closet.

"Mum said she'll take you to Diagon Alley – that's in London – to pick out furniture and clothes and all that girly non-sense." His demeanor was serious but his lop-sided grin gave his true feelings away. Hermione turned to face him, and he suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

He ruffled the hair on his head, (very unlike Harry, she thought) and leaned against the back wall. "Look, I'm sorry about your parents. I can't imagine losing mine, and you must be really upset… but I hope you like it here. Mum and Dad are really great, so is Hogwarts. You'll love it. I'll have to introduce you to my friends next month when we go to get our books and stuff for school."

Hermione smiled, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. "Thank you, James. I really appreciate your help."

He looked torn between hugging her and running away. Instead he nodded, glanced away from her nervously, and left the room, carrying his broomstick in one hand.

Deciding to leave the door open, Hermione went back down to become more acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Potter.

A roar of green flames told her she missed saying good-bye to the Headmaster. She felt slightly sad to not get the chance, but another voice brought her back to the living room.

"Oh, it's nearly six-thirty already! Hermione, dear, are you hungry? Dinner's in a few minutes; why don't you wash up and tell James? We can learn all about each other while we eat."

Mrs. Potter rushed towards a double-swinging door that turned out to be a kitchen. Hermione did as she was told – washed up, sought James, and arrived in the dining room just as the food was being placed on the table.

-.-.-

Dinner was a blur for Hermione. Questions whizzed out to her like rapid-fire, and she answered to the best of her ability.

No, she had no living relatives. Yes, Beauxbatons was lovely. "Of course!" (she squeaked excitedly) she looked forward to attending Hogwarts very much in September.

Constantly being told to refer to Mr. and Mrs. Potter by their first names, the environment was relaxed, but exciting.

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has decided you will be Sorted into a House in a few weeks. He'll send an owl when he gets a chance." Hermione nodded, listening intently to everything they said, but also not really catching it all. The meal had lasted longer than normal, considering all the questions and talking, so it wasn't until past eight o'clock when they finished.

"Just leave your plate, dear. Mopsy will clean it up."

_Another House-Elf? Oh, I hope they treat her right…_ As soon as the words crossed her mind, the House-Elf appeared next to her and curtsied gracefully. Where Kreacher had a disgusting loin cloth, Mopsy had a pillowcase. It was not ragged or dirty, but rather looked very clean and freshly ironed. There were no swearwords to escape her mouth, but instead a toothy smile so large, it wrinkled the skin around her tennis-ball eyes.

"Thank you, Mopsy." Hermione said, offering a warm smile.

"Mopsy is happy to help Hermione LaBaugh and her Masters, very happy!" All evidence of the three-course dinner disappeared.

"I'll take my tea in the sitting room please, Mopsy." Dorea said simply, rising from her chair.

"Yes Mistress, of course. Mopsy will bring her Mistress tea."

Everyone left the dining room for what Mrs. Potter called the sitting room (it felt more like an extra living room to Hermione!) and sat around a fireplace not unlike the one Hermione had arrived in.

"Mum, can I skip tea tonight? I was just going to write to Sirius and-" Hermione couldn't listen even if she wanted to. The _thump-thump_ of her heartbeat had become so loud; she thought her heart itself must have jumped up into her head.

Sirius, alive. James and Sirius: the best friends, the two dead Marauders, alive. Real, scarlet blood ran through their veins. Oxygen in their lungs…

"Yes, dear, of course. You'll catch him up to date then?" Mrs. Potter replied.

James was half-way up the stairs by the word 'catch', and shouted "Yes, Mum!" down the stairs.

Hermione sat uncomfortably across from Mr. and Mrs. Potter, feeling as if she were being scrutinized under their gaze. Mopsy set a tray of tea and cups on the table between them, and curtsied before disappearing again.

Dorea and Charlus smiled warmly at Hermione, and handed her a teacup. "I realize your room is rather bare, Hermione, but I thought you might want to decorate it to your preferences. Dumbledore told us what he knew of you: a bright young witch, aren't you? Top marks in all your classes, model student, zero detentions… You could give James some lessons." Charlus said, laughing.

Dorea swatted her husband playfully on the arm, "Don't be too harsh, Charlus." She turned to Hermione, "James is very smart…he just likes a bit of fun. Sometimes it gets in the way of his studies; perfectly acceptable behavior for a boy his age. Never been expelled, has he?" she directed her question to Mr. Potter, but a smile played at her lips.

Hermione smiled, enjoying the light banter between the older couple. She had never imagined Harry's grandparents before, and even if she did, would she have imagined these particular people, with their gray hair and quirky personalities? She doubted it.

"If you're up to it, dear, we can go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to start on your room. Or you can just relax for a while, I understand you are going through a very difficult time." Dorea said, leaning across the table to pat Hermione's hand gently.

Without a memory of her so-called parents, Hermione felt very little grief for their loss. It was a terrible accident, yes, but she did not feel a tug on her heartstrings when she read the names in the article. She did not cry because parents she never knew had died.

"Actually, Mrs. Potter- ("Dorea, please!") -I would love to go shopping with you tomorrow. Keep my mind off things, and I would love to see Diagon Alley." She offered a warm smile, and received one in return.

"Well, that settles it, then." Charlus spoke up. "Unfortunately, I have work tomorrow, so I will not be able to escort you beautiful ladies around. (Hermione blushed) Dorea, just tell the shopkeepers to take it out of our vault; it will save you at least an hour. I am going to retire for the night. Good evening, Hermione. I hope you find yourself at home."

"Thank you, Mr. Po- Charlus."

-.-.-


	3. Three's a Charm

**A/N:** I was completely overwhelmed by the amount of feedback I received for chapters 1 and 2. BIG thank you to my 6 reviewers, as well as the 15 favorites and 40(!) followers. Everyone who reviews receives a response, including a hint about the next chapter!

-.-.-

**Friday. July 11****th****, 1975**

Hermione had a fitful sleep, haunted by the faces of Harry and Ron, with flashes of Ginny, Luna, and Neville… She missed them all so much. It had been less than a day and the pain she felt was heartbreaking.

She woke up in the middle of the night; her face was dripping with salty tears. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she made her way to the attached bathroom.

Turning on the faucet, Hermione splashed some water on her face and took deep breaths to calm her emotions. She shut off the water and patted her face with a fluffy white towel. A creak outside her bedroom door made her freeze on the spot; she grabbed her wand from the floor next to her bed and moved back towards the door.

It opened inaudibly, and Hermione raised her wand. "Expelliarmus!" she shouted, disarming the intruder.

"Oi!" He hadn't brought his wand, so James was pushed up against the wall by Hermione's spell.

"Hermione, it's me! It's James! I heard you crying, I was worried…"

Realization struck Hermione and she was washed with remorse. "Oh, James, I'm so sorry! I don't know what made me- I'm so sorry!"

"Who did you think was coming to get you?" his tone was a sharp whisper, "Why did you disarm me?"

"I'm sorry, James, I really don't- Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" she replied, hiding her face in her hands.

Guilt overcame him, and he reached for her shoulder, "Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been…er… well I mean… I was a git. I'm sorry. Please don't cry." He was almost pleading with her not to get too upset. "Forget it, it was no big deal."

She nodded, her face still veiled. James put his hands on her wrists and gently moved them, "C'mon, back to bed with you."

"I don't think I could sleep. Not now at least," Hermione replied sadly.

James seemed to understand; he dropped his grip on her and turned to exit. "I'm going to get dressed. It'll be morning soon, we can get an early breakfast. Mopsy's always up before the sun." A smile spread on his face, and it felt as if she was looking at Harry.

Hermione swallowed the grief and guilt that had lodged its way into her throat. "I'll see you down there in a minute."

With dawn breaking over the horizon, streaks of pink and gold shot from the edges of the sky. It was truly a beautiful sight: birds were awakening to feed their young and trees were rustling with the warm summer wind.

Hermione slipped into a pair of light blue, high-waist jeans and a peasant top_. These 70's clothes are the worst_ she thought, pulling at the hem of her blouse. Not to be bothered with shoes, Hermione placed her wand in her front pocket and started down the stairs.

"Don't you look fashionable?" James said with a wink. Hermione couldn't remember Harry ever winking, and it was strange to see his doppelganger do it. Thankful it wasn't very bright in the hallway Hermione lightly blushed at the compliment, even though it was miniscule.

They made their way down to the kitchen, where Mopsy was seen scurrying from the oven to the ice box many times. Hermione chose a stool on the breakfast bar and before James could plop down next to her, a tap tap tap was heard from a far window.

"Oh no! It's the Ministry of Magic! I've done magic outside of school. They're going to expel me!" she gasped, "They're going to snap my wand!" another gasp, "I'm going to Azkaban!"

James smirked, letting the Greater Sooty owl in and relieved it of its letter. "You won't get expelled, and you definitely aren't going to Azkaban." He opened the envelope, still smirking, "There's so much magic going on in this house at any given time, the Ministry will barely care it you did a single spell. Between Mopsy and my parents, it's just too much magic for them to keep track of. This is Sirius' owl, Noctua." He read the letter and took a seat.

"Are you sure about that? I still have the Trace on me, they can tell it was me." Hermione replied with worry etched on her face.

James shrugged nonchalantly. "Sirius says 'hey' and welcomes you to the family." He placed the letter in his pocket as Mopsy brought plates of scones, butter and jam, maple bacon, and scrambled eggs. "Thanks, Mopsy."

"Mm this looks delicious, Mopsy, thank you!" Hermione said eagerly. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until the foods wafted under her nose.

Mopsy looked very pleased with herself and curtsied low. "Can Mopsy get anything else for Little Master and Little Miss?" Hermione's mouth was full of food but she shook her head silently.

"Some pumpkin juice would be great, actually." Mopsy did as requested and the two teenagers enjoyed their breakfast with little conversation.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter joined them a few minutes later, but Charlus only had time to grab a muffin and Disapparate to work. Dorea smiled at Hermione and James as she stirred her tea, "How did you sleep, dears?"

James swallowed the last bit of his juice and smiled, "Great, Mum. And Hermione, too. Very restful sleep." Hermione glanced at him as he said this, thankful for his lie. She could see Harry doing the same thing, and she smiled inwardly.

"Oh, wonderful! Hermione, we can leave whenever you're ready. Are you sure you don't want to accompany us, James?"

The Marauder shook his head, "No thanks, Mum. I should work on my holiday homework." Hermione doubted he would really do his schoolwork while he had the whole house to himself, but bit her tongue and continued to smile.

"Alright, dear, if that's what you prefer. We could be gone all day, so make sure you have a good lunch and don't make a mess!" Dorea replied, shaking a very knowing finger at him.

With a smirk and a wink, James left the kitchen and went upstairs.

Dorea stood up, smoothed out her plum robes and offered Hermione a warm smile. "Ready, Hermione?"

-.-.-

The two witches had been to nearly every store in Diagon Alley. Dorea spoke to an interior designer (highly recommended by one of her friends) and Hermione's room could be completed in only two days, if they started right away. The designer was given permission to do so, and he Disapparated straight to Potter Palace.

Mrs. Potter had purchased thousands of galleons worth of items for Hermione: robes, dress robes, furniture, and books, _lots_ of books. They had a very nice lunch in a little café before continuing to shop for trinkets and decorations, and even some more muggle clothes. The rush of all the shopping was exhausting; Hermione wondered how much longer she could do it before collapsing on the cobblestone street.

"When is your birthday, dear? I must make sure we do something proper for you." Dorea said with a warm smile, adjusting the bags in her left hand.

Panic ran down Hermione's body like an egg broken over her head, dripping down her neck, back, and overcoming her limbs. She rushed to cover up the fact that she had no idea if her birthday had changed. "Please, I don't want anything. You and Mr. P- Charlus have done so much for me already. I couldn't dare ask for anything else."

Dorea scoffed, "That's what we're supposed to do, darling. We wanted to help you, and we still do. I never had a daughter; too many complications in my first pregnancy to dare have trying for another child. You are the little girl I never had, Hermione. And if I want to spoil you rotten, you will just have to accept that."

The aristocratic features in the older witch's face suddenly became very apparent. Her tone was playful but Hermione knew better than to test her words.

"If you don't want to tell me what you want for your birthday then I will just have to pick something extravagant for you. Well, I think we're about done for the day, dear, and I am thoroughly fatigued."

-.-.-

With the help of Mopsy, Hermione had all of her new clothes neatly hanging in her walk-in closet. The interior designer and his team had already finished painting the walls (a soft mint, with help of magicked paint brushes) and were huddled over a disorganized shuffle of parchments Hermione assumed were the plans. She would have to wait until the room was completed the next day to completely unpack, and was feeling rather giddy about it.

Dinner was rather uneventful, but filled with typical family chatter. Hermione learned that Charlus, who was a Gryffindor in his time at Hogwarts, currently worked in the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable and often worked days at a time without coming home. Luckily though, summer was the off-season and he enjoyed time with his family as much as he could. She also discovered Dorea met her husband at Hogwarts, but did not mention her House.

The family of four retired for the evening, and Hermione went to her half-finished room. The black Extended clutch she had safely tucked between her mattress and box spring was now in her lap, and she reached in for the photo album. She flipped through the pages slowly, allowing the memories of her friends encompass her. There was a sudden flow of grief and Hermione bit her lip to keep a cascade of tears from escaping.

Slamming the photo album closed, she shoved it back into the clutch and decided to go through the stash of Daily Prophets she thought would be helpful. They were arranged by date, and she found the first death wouldn't occur for a few more months; Hermione sighed with relief and fell back into her pillow.

And she slept like a baby.

-.-.-

**Saturday. July 12, 1975**

There was a knock at her door, and based on the amount of sunlight streaming through the French balcony doors, it was past her usual time to wake.

"Hermione? It's time to get up, dear. The design team is here, and they can finish it before dinner if they start now." Dorea voice echoed softly through her nearly-bare room.

"I'm up, thank you Dorea." The woman nodded and closed the door behind her.

Hermione washed the sleep from her face and dressed quickly. The warm July weather called for lighter clothes, so Hermione pulled on a pair of dark denim shorts and a white tank top. Not bothering with her hair, she ran down the stairs, suddenly very hungry.

As soon as she pulled the door to the kitchen, Hermione stopped in her tracks, and the two-way door bumped behind her, pushing her further inside.

Sirius Black was sitting at the breakfast bar, in the exact spot she had chosen yesterday. James was next to him, and Hermione's entrance brought their eyes to her.

"Morning, 'Mione! Glad you found your way down," James said, grinning. His jet-black hair was as messy as it ever was, and the round glasses were perched on his nose like a trophy.

Hermione couldn't breathe. She hadn't prepared herself to see Sirius yet, no, not at all. But there he was, alive. Heart pumping, veins coursing with blood, that signature lop-sided smile she remembered from her own time. She hadn't seen it in over a year…

Sirius stood up and made his way over to her, taking her hand and placing a soft kiss upon it "_Plaisir de vous recontrer,__ mademoiselle Hermione__. __Je suis__Sirius, votre__très beau__Marauder. Toujours à votre service_. (Pleasure to meet you, Miss Hermione. I am Sirius, your very handsome Marauder. Forever at your service.)" His steel-gray eyes bore into hers and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. He looked nothing like how she'd first met him; instead of waxy, tattooed skin, this Sirius was well-built, darkly handsome and had an elegantly chiseled bone structure. His hair was black and curly, reaching just above his shoulders and Hermione was reminded of

She knew basic French in her old life, and could get along fairly well with it, but in this alternate time-line (or whatever it was), Hermione must have known it very well. _Of all things to know, French but not my birthday?_

She ripped her hand from his grip, "_Salut, monsieur Sirius. Je dois vous informer que je ne tomberai pas pour votre charme. Il est conseill__é__ de transformer vos affections ailleurs_. (Hi, Mister Sirius. I must inform you that I will not fall for your charm. It is advised to turn your affections elsewhere.)" Although her words were sharp, a sweet smile played on her lips and was happy with his reaction.

Sirius turned to James with a hanging jaw. "Did you get that?" James shook his head.

"No, mate. I never bothered with any languages except English, and I'm bad enough at that," he replied, taking a bite of eggs.

"Feisty one here, mate," Sirius said, returning to his seat. Mopsy refilled their glasses of juice and started making a plate for Hermione.

James smirked, "Well, from the sound of it, Black, you were trying to lure my new sister into one of your traps. I'm quite proud of whatever she said. _Honestly_, mate. I have a sister for less than two days and you already try to get in her pants? Some friend you are." He jokingly punched Sirius in the arm, and they roughhoused for a few minutes, rolling around on the floor and almost knocking over James' stool.

Hermione rolled her eyes and took the now-vacated seat she had expected to find in the first place. Mopsy served her an aromatic breakfast of toast, eggs, and kippers.

"Alright, children, settle down now." Hermione said in a very Dorea-like tone. The boys broke into laughter and Hermione couldn't help but smile.

The boys composed themselves and Sirius grabbed a piece of toast from James' plate. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Prongs. I'm not going to date Hermione. She's your sister now. I assure you: I do not find her attractive in the slightest."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, thinking that was a very Ron thing to say. James noticed it too, and realization must have hit Sirius because he looked as if the words had come out of someone else's mouth.

"Wait, not what I meant…" Sirius said, attempting to fix it. Hermione waved it off.

"I'm used to worse, don't sweat it." She decided to finish her breakfast quietly and watch the best friends in action.

They were both very handsome and, although she still felt a pang of sadness when she remembered James was not Harry, she was very glad to be surrounded by people she knew she could trust with her life.

Sirius was only visiting for the day, much to James' chagrin, and they invited Hermione to join them. Since Hermione had no room to hide in, she was pleased to accept their invitation.

The three of them spent the day on the grounds of Potter Palace; the boys played one-on-one Quidditch while Hermione read Hogwarts; A History under a shade tree. Lunch came and went and they talked about school; their friends, the professors, and the grounds. Hermione was sure they may have slipped about a big prank they were planning.

-.-.-

"Mum says dinner will be done in about twenty minutes. May we give you a proper tour of the house, Hermione?" James said, offering a smile and his elbow. Hermione tried not to laugh, but graciously accepted her brother's arm.

Sirius placed her other hand in his elbow, and they began the tour. "This, _mon amie_, is a hallway. People use it to walk from room to room. It is often decorated with paintings, furniture and carpets." Sirius waved a hand in front of them and Hermione sniggered.

"You know this wing. This is the west wing, where our rooms and the guest rooms are." James started, "My parents stay in the east wing, and we're not really supposed to go in there unless it's an emergency." He added quietly.

Hermione nodded in understanding, and they turned her back to the staircase. They followed it down and into the living room, to a wall of built-ins. "This is a bookcase. Muggles and wizards alike use these to hold their items, such as," he gasped dramatically, "books!" She attempted to stifle a giggle as she glanced at a book labeled 50 Ways to Win a Witch Without Wounding Your Ego.

The tour continued into the south wing, where an elaborate ballroom held home to a grand piano Hermione couldn't keep her eyes off of. She hadn't played piano in years, and she missed the feel of the ivory, and the way her fingers danced effortlessly on the beautiful instrument.

Sirius opened two large, oak double-doors and led her into a library. Hermione literally gasped at the sight. Books were shelved floor to ceiling, which was higher than she was comfortable with venturing, but she was sure she would risk it. The books were calling to her; Muggle and Wizard books alike sat upon the shelves, and not a speck of dust was in sight.

"Mopsy cleans in here regularly, even though no one ever uses it anymore." James explained. "And by the amount of books you got from Diagon Alley, I figured you wouldn't mind venturing into this wing for a while."

Hermione's eyes glimmered with happiness and she threw her arms around the boys. "This is the most beautiful room I have ever seen. Thank you. Thank you so much!"

Sirius patted her back awkwardly, whereas James embraced the hug. James felt closer to Hermione today than he ever had, metaphorically speaking. He was almost used to calling her his sister, at least in his head. _Maybe that will get better, too _he thought.

The three of them broke apart and Hermione ventured further into the room. She ran her fingers along the spines of a nearby shelf of books and sighed contentedly. Her brown eyes scanned the titles and the giddiness inside her grew.

When she turned around a few moments later, (_Or was it hours?_ she asked herself) the boys were gone. And she felt strangely empty without them.

-.-.-

**Thursday. July 31, 1975**

It was lunchtime before Hermione realized what day it was. It was a scorching Thursday, and James was going on about how beautiful and brilliant Lily Evans was. He was describing her eyes when Hermione welled up with tears.

_Almond-shaped emerald eyes. Harry. Today is Harry's birthday._ Only it wasn't._ No, he isn't alive yet, _she remembered. It would be five more years before he would come to be, and Hermione ran from the dining room to throw herself onto her seafoam-green bed sheets.

She hadn't cried since her first morning at the Potters, and while she had come close a fair few times, Hermione couldn't keep it in any longer. She wept heavily into the soft comforter; she sobbed for the best friend she couldn't hug, whimpered for the redheaded boy she had never kissed, and bawled for all of the loved ones she left behind. The tears burned, escaped, and cascaded down her freckled cheeks. She couldn't be bothered to wipe them away, not when she knew there would be more.

Hermione grieved for hours: well past dinner and fell asleep, finally exhausted from her sorrow.

-.-.-

**Monday. August 18, 1975**

"I was wondering when these would come! They're usually sent in the beginning of the month, I was getting worried." Dorea exclaimed, relieving two school owls from their envelopes.

James' mouth was stuffed with food, but his eyes gleamed with excitement. He attempted a fumbled mix of sign language and charades as he chewed his too-large bite.

Hermione bit back a laugh, "James says he was looking forward to the school list and will Floo Sirius and the others to meet up with us." The raven-haired boy nodded enthusiastically and swallowed his food.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione. How did you get that?"

"James Charlus Potter!" The elder witch swatted the back of her son's head, "Don't use language like that in this house!"

Hermione's laugh finally escaped as James rubbed his head sorely, "You just reminded me of… someone from my old school," she saved quickly.

Dorea smiled sadly at the young girl, "Yes, well finish your breakfasts so we can go. I'm sure Diagon Alley will be packed with students. I can't believe they would wait so long to send the lists…"

Two hours later, Hermione, James, and Mrs. Potter arrived in the hectic street of shops. They extracted some money from Gringotts in record time, and were now standing in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

"Here are your lists, dears. I'm going to do some of my own shopping, and we can meet back here for sundaes in two hours. Go find the others and _stick together_! These are crazy times, you know."

"We will, Mum. Thanks!" Dorea smiled as they strolled down the sidewalk, and Hermione felt the usual surge of excitement from school shopping.

"C'mon, I told Sirius and Remus we'd meet them at Quality Quidditch." James took her wrist and pulled her forward, weaving in and out of the crowd.

"James! OI, JAMES!" they heard above the shuffling of shoppers. Sirius waved them down from the doorway and she saw the instant light flicker in her new brother's eye. The sight of Harry's father and godfather's relationship still amazed Hermione, and she silently wished he could see them like this.

_I will change time. Harry _will_ be able to see them like this. I won't let them die…_ she promised herself.

"'Ey mate. Long time no see." Lop-sided grins were exchanged between the two and Hermione rolled her eyes with a small smile.

"Hey Hermione." Sirius offered her a smirk, but Remus poked his head above Sirius' shoulder.

Hermione was very glad to finally be "meeting" Professor Lupin – no, Remus. He wasn't her professor yet. And he would never be. Not in this timeline.

She noticed how exuberant his face was; he had only one visible scar, from his right eyebrow to his earlobe, and the sandy-toned hair showed no signs of graying. His amber eyes danced with youth and she felt very happy for him. There was a slight tiredness in his eyes and she made a mental note to check her calendar for the lunar schedule.

"Hello. I'm Remus, the most responsible of the Marauders. I also have the least-inflated head." He offered his hand to shake, but Hermione couldn't stop herself; she embraced him in a hug.

The werewolf's eyes must have grown in surprise because James snickered behind her. She released him and immediately felt panicked.

"I'm sorry," she said hurriedly, "James has told me _so much_ about you. I was very excited to meet you."

Remus glanced at James with worry, but the raven-haired boy gave the slightest shake of his head and Remus relaxed.

"Oi! How come I didn't get a greeting like that?" Sirius pouted.

"For Merlin's sake, let Moony have some attention for once." James joked, but the werewolf seemed to blush.

"He won't need attention from 'Mione. Didn't you see it? Our little Remmikins made Prefect!" Sirius shouted before pinching Remus' cheeks like a mother. Everyone laughed, but Remus swatted Sirius' hands away and glared.

Hermione looke d around, "Where's Peter?"

The three boys looked at each other for answers.

"Did you Floo him?"

"No, I told you to Floo him."

"I distinctly remember you saying you would Floo him."

"That's preposterous! Why would I Floo him when you said you were going to do it?"

The banter went on for a few moments, and Hermione wondered if this was one of the reasons Peter eventually betrayed his friends. She eyed the boys thoughtfully and sighed.

Hermione gave a tight-lipped smile and turned to James. "Okay, dear brother of mine, where to first?"

James ruffled his already-untidy hair and smiled, "Why, Quality Quidditch of course!"

Sirius and James rushed through the door like children in a toy store, and Hermione and Remus laughed lightly with a roll of their eyes.

The two black-haired boys were ogling a brand new broomstick near the front of the store while Remus and Hermione wandered to the back to peruse through the book selection.

"Typical James and Sirius: wanting to look at the toys before getting their supplies." Remus said, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle, "They remind me of…guys from my old school." She replied smoothly.

"Don't get me wrong, I love Quidditch…but I'm not as crazy about it as those two. James is obsessed with it and Sirius thinks it's the best invention since the wand," the lycanthrope retorted with a smirk.

With much difficulty, Remus and Hermione dragged the others to buy the proper equipment for the upcoming year. Once the quills, parchment, books and potion ingredients were purchased, the foursome met with Dorea at the ice cream parlor.

-.-.-

_(Published 12-6-12)_


	4. Fourthcomings

A/N: Wow, I keep getting more and more surprised by the amazing feedback! 31 favorites, 63 follows and 21 reviews! You guys are awesome! I wish everyone that followed would also review but I digress haha. Just remember: if you review, you get a PM with a hint from the next chapter! Enjoy! (P.S. Please ignore the weird pagebreaks. Microsoft Wore threw them in and I couldn't figure out how to get rid of them. I tried EVERYTHING! My page breaks will always be the dashes and periods. Anything else is to be ignored.)

-.-.-

**Tuesday. August 26, 1975.**

It had been a quiet day at Potter Palace. James had spent most of the morning rushing to finish his holiday homework, "So I can concentrate on perfecting the Gryffindor Quidditch team's victory!" he claimed. Hermione laughed at his passion and studied in the massive library in the west wing.

She had missed lunch, and with no idea what time it was Hermione decided to venture back to the main part of the house. Opening the door to the living room, she was startled to see Professor Dumbledore sitting, quite nonchalantly on the couch, having an animated conversation with Charlus.

"There's the girl of the hour!" exclaimed Charlus. Dumbledore stood to greet her formally and she saw it: The Sorting Hat.

It was looking at her...or at least she thought it was. Did it really have eyes? It always kind of made her squirm a bit.

"Are you ready to get Sorted, Hermione?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

Hermione felt her nerves acting up, and she had to remind herself she had already been through this once. _It'll be fine._ She nodded to the old wizard._ Nothing to worry about; just calm your mind, like last time…_

Dumbledore summoned a stool for her and she sat, trying not to look anxious.

It took a few seconds for anything to happen, and she realized the Hat was looking into her mind.

_**Ah, hello again, Miss Granger**_

_ You… you remember me?_

_** Well, no, but you remember me. And I see everything that you see.**_

_Oh. Right. _

_**A Gryffindor, eh? I see the bravery in your heart, but I also see the knowledge in your mind. You are quite the Ravenclaw aren't you?**_

If it had been a conversation, Hermione wouldn't know what to say. Now, Hermione didn't know what to _think_. She just wanted this to get over with, and fast.

_**Although your loyalty is strong as well. You are quite a sight, hmm? Well, either way, I don't see how you will change anything.**_

_What?_

_**I see your mission, Miss Granger. And I fear there is nothing you can do.**_

_But I have to! I have to change history! I have to because…because this is the most important thing in the world! I can't fail. I refuse._

_**That must be the Gryffindor in you talking. **_

Had Hermione noticed, she would see the bemused expression on Charlus and Dumbledore's faces. Instead, she concentrated on what the mysterious hat was trying to tell her.

_I will be happy with wherever you put me. I was happy in Gryffindor before, and I trust you to put me wherever you see fit. But please, tell me why you don't think I can change history?_

The hat chuckled, _**You poor child. You have no idea what you're up against. Either way, you'd be best suited for…**_

"Gryffindor!"

Hermione physically deflated with relief, but felt puzzled. _Has that old hat gone mad? Or can he see the future?_

"I'm so proud of you, Hermione!" Charlus said, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "I was in Gryffindor myself, you know, as is James!"

Hermione forced a smiled at the eldest Potter before glancing at the Headmaster.

"Well done, Miss LaBaugh. I'm sure you'll be quite happy with your Housemates, wild as they may be," Dumbledore said.

"Thank you, Professor. And thank you, Charlus. I'm sure I'll be fine as well," she replied.

"Albus and I have been talking for quite some time before you came back to Earth," Charlus teased, "You'll ride the Hogwarts Express and take the carriages with James to the castle."

Hermione silently nodded, happy with anything they had agreed upon. _Oh, to be at Hogwarts again,_ she thought wishfully.

The men continued to talk for a few minutes, and Hermione stared intently at the Sorting Hat. The Hat returned the eye contact until Dumbledore placed it in a travelling case and excused himself from the home.

"Thank you again for having me, Charlus. I hope you are adjusting well, Miss LaBaugh."

Charlus shook the Headmaster's hand and Hermione nodded with a smile.

"Oh! Almost forgot. As per your wishes, your parent's home in France was sold, along with the furniture and such. The proceeds have been put into a Gringotts account for you." Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden key and slip of parchment. "Here's everything you need. I'll see you September first then, Hermione," he added before Disapparating with a faint _pop._

"I think we'll have to celebrate then!" Charlus said happily.

"Celebrate?"

"Why yes! You're a Gryffindor now! A true Potter! This is a perfect reason to celebrate. Why don't you go find James and tell him your great news? Tell him to invite the other boys, we can all have a nice dinner together, whatever you want! Name your favorite foods and you shall have them!"

"Mr. Potter-"

"Charlus."

"Charlus… I really don't need a big dinner or anything. I haven't even done anything yet."

"Oh Hermione. You didn't _have_ to do anything! We will be celebrating what's inside you! Being a Gryffindor is something to be celebrated. Now no more backtalk," Charlus teased again, "Please find James and tell Mopsy what you want for your celebratory dinner."

-.-.-

"Alright, I've owled Sirius, and Floo'ed Remus and Peter. Sirius is going to stay for the rest of the summer. Remus can stay the night but Peter's on restriction, so he can only stay for dinner."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow in interest, "Why is Peter on restriction?"

James simply shrugged, "Didn't ask."

_Of course not_ Hermione thought bitterly. She let her thoughts wander as she waited for dinnertime to arrive. Could she ever get over her disgust for Peter Pettigrew? Could she prevent his betrayal and, in turn, save the Potters? She wasn't sure about the first, but she was determined to accomplish the second.

With a _whoosh _and a green flash, James eyes lit up. "Sirius is here!" he shouted and ran from her bedroom.

Pushing her aggravation aside, even for just the meal, Hermione followed after at a slower pace. When she entered the living room and saw the two best friends talking energetically, she longed to see Harry and Ron again. They were never particularly loquacious, but they had a bond very similar to James and Sirius: strong, brotherly love that nothing could come between and Hermione felt a pang of saddened jealousy. The closest she ever had to that kind of relationship was with Harry, but it was so incredibly different, it didn't compare in the least. She wanted that kind of bond. She wanted to laugh and joke and wrestle… Okay, maybe not wrestle, but she definitely wanted to feel that kind of love.

-.-.-

"We have all gathered here tonight to celebrate the arrival of a new member into the proud house of Gryffindor," Charlus said, standing at the head of the table in the formal dining room.

The Marauders cheered, stomping their feet, and either clanging spoons on their glasses or drumming on the table. Dorea's face was alighted with happiness, easily inferred by the sparkle in her eyes and large smile. Charlus bowed gracefully and the raucous boys quieted.

"Every Potter that has ever attended Hogwarts was a Gryffindor – except my lovely wife, sorry dear – and I am a very proud man today. As everyone here knows, Dorea and I had a difficult time conceiving, and an even more difficult time with her pregnancy," Charlus stared pointedly at James, a teasing gleam in his eye, "Nonetheless, I am pleased to announce that my new daughter will follow in the Potter's footsteps and join the noble house of Gryffindor!"

The boys cheered again, and even Dorea joined in this time. Hermione blushed but couldn't stop, even laughing at their excitement.

"Welcome, Hermione, to Gryffindor!" Charlus added, looking down at her with a smile and a glint in his eye. Hermione beamed, standing to give him a proper hug. He kissed the top of her head and gave her one last slight squeeze. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered in her ear. She nodded silently, trying not to cry in happiness. She sniffled back her emotions and returned to her seat, Charlus doing the same.

Mopsy served the first course of Stilton salad and the group of seven chatted excitedly. Hermione munched on her salad, glancing at Peter as inconspicuously as possible during the louder bits of conversation.

After the main course and everyone was a bit fuller, the talking dwindled into small talk. Hermione enjoyed watching James, who was to her left, and Sirius, sitting across from James, pick on each other before transitioning to planning a prank under their breath.

Dessert filled everyone to the brim and everyone was excused to the sitting room. Hermione had been lucky so far; she only had to acknowledge Peter's presence when they were introduced at the beginning of the night, as he had made no effort to speak to her in the least.

Charlus and Dorea found comfort in the loveseat, while Hermione sat in a wingback and the Marauders squished onto the couch, sans Peter who sat on the floor in front of them. They told stories of pranks they pulled, particularly one where they tricked the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team to forfeit a game.

"That one took special ingenuity!" Sirius exclaimed enthusiastically.

James chuckled, "Yes, and we have Remmy to thank for that part! He's brilliant, ya know!"

'Remmy' blushed and hid his face in a throw pillow. The grandfather clock in the corner chimed, signaling Peter's time to return home.

"It was nice meeting you," Hermione said politely, a false smile playing on her lips.

"You too. And...uh...welcome to Gryffindor." Peter replied, giving a small wave to everyone else and disappearing into the fireplace.

James, Sirius, Remus, and Hermione gathered in James' room, decked out in pajamas of t-shirts and cotton pants for the boys, and a soft lilac set for Hermione. She taught them Muggle games like Truth or Dare, Twenty Questions, and Never Ever Have I Ever. Hermione and Remus tied as the winners, or "Most Innocent" as Sirius and James called them. They joked, talked, and drank past the late hours of the night and into the early hours of the day.

-.-.-

Long after their mini-party, and well before Sirius and Remus would wake, James and Hermione sat talking in her room.

"What's wrong, 'Mione? You were awfully quiet at dinner."

Hermione shrugged, refusing to make eye contact, and instead found interest in a loose thread dangling from her shirt.

"C'mon… You can tell me. I'm your brother now. What is it?"

The bushy-haired witch reluctantly met his eyes. She stared into the face that would eventually belong to Harry and physically shuttered. James' eyes flashed with worry, "This is something serious, isn't it?"

Still unable to speak, she simply nodded.

"Is it my parents? Did they push the dinner too far?" Hermione shook her head. "Is it Sirius? Did he say something that bothered you?" Hermione shook her head again. "Is it Remus?"

"No, of course not!" she replied, finally finding her voice._ Perhaps a bit too defensive_,she thought, _He doesn't know that I know. I'm not _supposed_ to know Remus' secret_.

"Then what is it? Is it Peter?"

Hermione's voice failed her again and her eyes dropped to the floor. The pair sat in silence for a moment: Hermione hoping the topic of discussion would change and James waiting for his sister to elaborate.

"Well?" he pushed softly.

She sighed through her nose and closed her eyes. Playing with the thread on her shirt again, Hermione shrugged a second time. "I don't know, James. It's not even something he did, or said. It's just…_him._ There's something about him I don't like."

The raven-haired boy scrunched his eyebrows and twisted his lips in thought. "What do you mean?"

Hermione sighed again, more aggravated now. "I don't know, James! It's just something about him I can't quite put my finger on."

He couldn't push the subject anymore, he knew that much. Hermione had come so far in the little time she had been with them at Potter Palace, and he didn't want to jeopardize a relapse in her recovery for something as silly as being uncomfortable around Peter.

"Alright… but you're okay with Remus?" he asked, seemingly innocent.

Hermione choked out a laugh, "Yes, I like Remus. He has been nothing but kind to me, and we share a taste in books. _And_ he's not as obnoxious as you," she teased, elbowing him humorously.

James smirked and elbowed her back, soon tickling her sides until she fell over in fits of giggles and cried, "Mercy!"

-.-.-

**Monday. September 1, 1975.**

"Oh good Merlin, James! We're going to be late!" Dorea shouted up the stairs. Hermione at her side with her trunk, the women of the house were ready and waiting on the boys.

"We're coming, Mum! I swear!" a voice echoed down.

"Well I suggest you hurry up! If you miss the train, I will shove you through the platform whether it's closed or not!"

A moment later, Sirius and James ran down the stairs, pulling their trunks behind them. Charlus rushed into the room, checking the watch on his wrist. "Let's Side-Along, Dorea. We can't afford the time it takes to Floo."

Dorea took Hermione and Sirius' hands while Charlus grasped James. Two _pops_ later and they were in an alley next to King's Cross. "Hurry along, now!" Dorea urged, scooting them into the station.

Once through the platform, with a brief explanation from Charlus, Hermione reveled in the sight of the students and parents rushing onto the train.

"That's the Hogwarts Express, dear," Dorea explained.

"And it's about to leave, so give hugs and be on your way. Make sure you write, keep your grades up, try not to get too many detentions," Charlus joked. Dorea elbowed him in the stomach and he clutched it with a smile.

"I'll write. And keep my grades up. But with James around, I'm not sure if I can keep myself out of detentions," Hermione said with a laugh. James glared at her mockingly before bursting into laughter.

The train horn blew and the three of them clambered aboard. Finding Remus and Peter was easier than she anticipated, and soon all five of them had a quiet compartment near the middle of the train.

"Hey Hermione, hey guys," Remus said with a smile. Peter offered a tight-lipped grin and sat in silence.

"Scoot over, will you?" Hermione asked Remus, even though there was enough room between him and Peter. Remus cocked an eyebrow in confusion and James caught his eye, giving him a look. Remus did as he was asked, and Hermione took a seat.

Sirius, James, and Peter started a game of Exploding Snap, while Remus and Hermione read quietly.

"So what's the first prank of the year?" James asked.

"I was thinking something along the lines of a potion, slipped into the Slytherins' morning pumpkin juice. Perhaps turn their hair into lion's manes," he said with a smirk.

Hermione smiled at the thought, but couldn't help the roll of her eyes. "You guys are so immature," she said, still grinning.

"Oh, don't tell me. You think pranks are immature and stupid, don't you?" Sirius responded. "Looks like we've got another Evans on our hands."

"Hey, I can take a joke! I just think your time could be spent doing better things-"

"Like Quidditch?" Peter piped.

"Like studying," Hermione said pointedly. Peter squirmed in his seat. "Or changing the world."

"Changing the world?" James asked incredulously.

"Yes, changing the world."

"You realize we're only 15, right? No 15-year-old students ever changed the world," he said laughing.

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. By the time she was fifteen in her old life, she had escaped a troll, been petrified, saved Sirius and Buckbeak (her stomach jolted), helped Harry through the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and started both S.P.E.W. and Dumbledore's Army. Couldn't these brilliant boys put their time and effort into something like S.P.E.W.?

An hour later, the door to their compartment opened and Lucius Malfoy had a smirk that would eventually be passed down to his son.

"Ahh, here are the Gryffindorks," he drawled. "_Oh look_, they brought the new Mudblood." The two boys behind him chuckled.

James, Remus and Sirius were on their feet faster than Hermione could blink.

"Take it back, Malfoy!" James said, barely being held back by Remus.

Hermione tugged Sirius into his seat, "It's not worth it," she warned harshly. "Just ignore him."

"I mean it, Malfoy. You can't talk about my sister that way," James added, glaring fiercely at the blond Slytherin.

"And what are you gonna do about it?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione stood up. "No one was bothering you. You came here and bothered us. I recommend you continue to another compartment," she said, like a politician.

"How dare you speak to me, Mudblood! Who do you think you are?"

Sirius was on his feet again, Remus and Peter were holding his arms to keep him from attacking. James, on the other hand, was face-to-face with Lucius and he pulled out his wand. Malfoy was just as quick, and soon they were staring each other down, threatening each other with magic.

"Apologize," James said through gritted teeth.

Lucius glared, and Hermione wasn't sure what to do.

"James, it's not worth it. _He's_ not worth it," she said, placing her hand on his elbow. He loosened his grip on his wand, nostrils flaring in anger, but slowly lowered his arm.

Malfoy followed suit. "Looks like she's already got you whipped."

"Just leave, Malfoy!" Hermione shouted, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. She'd saved his arse once already, she wasn't sure she'd do it again.

Lucius lowered his wand, "Better watch your back," he said, and promptly strolled down the hallway and out of sight.

James was regaining control of his breath, although his face still seemed to be fuming, and he took his seat.

"Hermione's right. He's not worth it," Remus piped up. Everyone looked at him. "Well, he's not. What's a few spells going to do, really? Get us in a lot of trouble, that's what. And we haven't even got to school yet."

Hermione gave him a small smile in appreciation. He returned the gesture before reaching into his trunk. "I'm going to get my school robes on. I have a Prefect meeting, then rounds. I'll be back afterwards, if there's time," Remus said before leaving the compartment.

She didn't particularly want to sit next to Peter, but it seemed there was no choice. James was out of his mind and Sirius seemed too preoccupied with his thoughts to move.

"I can't believe you just let him call you that," Sirius muttered, staring out the compartment window.

Hermione shrugged, looking to the floor as if it were suddenly the most interesting thing on the planet. "It's nothing new to me, Sirius. People have been calling me that for years. You get used to it."

"You shouldn't _have_ to get used to it, 'Mione. It's a disgusting word, and Malfoy deserves to get his mouth washed out with soap!" James shouted.

Peter was strangely quiet, and Hermione chanced a glance at him. He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly, "It is a nasty word," he mumbled, and his watery eyes gave Hermione the chills.

She tried to hold back a roll of her eyes. "It doesn't bother me anymore. Honest. And it shouldn't bother you, either. Has anyone ever called you that before?" she waited for an answer. No one spoke. "That's what I thought. So you don't know how it feels. Malfoy's just being a… a prick. Don't let him get to you; it's what he wants," she added, finality in her voice.

Eventually, the three boys started a new game of Exploding Snap and the trolley came along. Dorea must have slipped money into her pockets during their hug, because the four of them had a handsome helping of snacks, and even Remus, who stopped in during his rounds, enjoyed a Chocolate Frog before returning to his duties.

-.-.-

"So when am I going to meet the infamous Lily Evans?" Hermione asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she and the Marauders climbed into a carriage. She still couldn't see Thestrals, not that it bothered her. James' face broke into a grin.

"Oh, I'd say fairly soon. I wouldn't be surprised if you shared a dorm," her brother replied.

The ride to the castle was bumpier than she was used to, but enjoyed the company of the only friends she had. She let her mind wander to her new dormmates. Would they be nice, like she'd always imagined Harry's mother to be? Would they be prissy and dramatic, like Lavender and Parvati?

Before she knew it, they were exiting the carriages and walking into the Great Hall. James was pointing things out to her, while Peter struggled to keep up with their larger steps.

"It's not _really_ the night sky-"

"It's only enchanted to look like it. I know, James. I read about it in Hogwarts; A History" she said, grinning.

"You read during the holidays?" Peter asked, nearly shocked.

Hermione tried not to laugh, "Yes." Peter's eyes grew wide.

"I wish I had that kind of motivation," he mumbled under his breath.

They found their seats at the Gryffindor table and waited for the Sorting to begin. When the last of the last of the first years were called and Sorted, the Headmaster made his usual beginning-of-the-year speech. He introducing the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Dawson, and the feast began.

James piled food on his plate as if it was his last meal. Hermione watched, incredulously. _How very 'Ron' of him_ she thought sadly.

"Oi! Potter!" a female voice called from the left. James and Hermione looked over to see a brunette girl sitting next to Lily Evans. "Is that her?" she asked, pointing to Hermione with her fork.

James nodded, mouth too stuffed with food to respond properly.

"Hello. I'm Rose. Rose Capulet," the girl said, her chocolate eyes smiling.

"Capulet? As in-?"

"Yes, as in Shakespeare. I love Shakespeare. My dad let me change my name for my eleventh birthday present. I chose Rose, as in 'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,' and Capulet as in…well, that's a bit obvious I think," she said with a smile.

Hermione returned the gesture, "I'm named after a Shakespeare character as well. A less-known one though, of course."

"Oh, you're muggleborn, then?" asked another girl. She had a darker complexion with a golden afro. "Fantastic! Not enough of them in the school, I say. Lily's a muggleborn as well," the girl said, elbowing the redhead next to her. Lily looked up, and Hermione saw the emerald eyes she had been both dreading and anticipating for the past month and a half. Lily offered a warm smile.

"I'm Jubilee," said Afro-girl, "and this is Lily Evans. That's Marian Whittle," she added, pointing to a blonde girl across from her, only a few seats down from Hermione. Marian waved happily, sipping from her goblet of pumpkin juice. "We'll be sharing a dorm with you. I wasn't sure if Dumbledore would be filling the fifth bed, at least not after what happened to…-" Jubilee stopped, a worried expression on her face. Hermione's curiosity kicked in.

"To..?"

Marian leaned back to see Hermione, "Jacquelyn; she sent us all an owl over the summer, saying she wouldn't be coming back to school this year. Said she'd be out for at least nine months…" she explained, a very thoughtful look spread on her face. Hermione's eyebrows shot up, and Sirius' attention was caught.

"Jackie was…?-"

"_Is_," Jubilee corrected.

Sirius looked sad and Hermione felt awkward. Did her arrival in this timeframe change Jacquelyn's life to fit Hermione in? Did the universe kick Jacquelyn out of Hogwarts, just to fit Hermione into it? A pang of guilt hit her stomach, and suddenly she didn't want to eat anymore.

Jubilee sent Sirius a smile of pity and went back to eating. Soon, she was chatting animatedly to Lily and occasionally trying to strike up conversation with Remus, who sat two seats away from her. It seemed everyone brushed off this discover of information, and Hermione was ready for bed. It had been a long day.

-.-.-

"Gather round, everyone, gather 'round!" James shouted from the top of a table. The Gryffindor Common Room was alight with life, as students from every year were listening to him.

Hermione, having never seen a spectacle like this in her time at Hogwarts, listened intently. Remus sat in a chair at the table, his face propped by his elbow and shaking his head. Sirius gleamed his most charming smile and the girls gathered close to him.

James pretended to straighten his tie. "It's that time of year again, and we must place our money on what we truly believe in. We must use the magical intuition Merlin gave us to the best of our abilities and finance what we as wizards and witches can wholeheartedly agree upon."

The group of girls near Sirius giggled and twitted their girly whispered comments to each other._ They have no shame_, Hermione thought.

"Oh first years, my dear first years. Pull the knuts, sickles, and galleons from your pocket! Raise your hand high! _This_ is where we place our wagers on our new D.A.D.A. professor! Come one, come all! Come place your bets on how he will go!"

Hermione's jaw dropped, "He takes bets on the outcome of the Defense teacher? That's completely barbaric!" she said to Rose.

The brunette nodded, "I know, but also kind of interesting. People will put their money on the craziest things: bludgeoned by a troll," Hermione hid a smirk, "drowned by the Mer-people, caught in bed with a student…" Rose trailed off, naming the most ridiculous outcomes for the poor DADA professor.

Eventually, everyone said their good nights.

"We'll wait for you for breakfast, Hermione. Don't want you to get lost in the castle. It's bigger than it looks," Remus said thoughtfully. She smiled, knowing too much.

"More like I'll wait for _you_. Knowing James, he'll sleep right through breakfast!"

Remus and Sirius burst into laughter, Peter following along, not quite getting the humor in it.

Hermione made her way up the girls' staircase and found the dorm she slept in a year prior. It looked the same, except for the people she would be sharing with.

The girls silently changed into their pajamas, brushed their teeth and climbed into bed. Exhaustion overcame her, and Hermione fell asleep easily.

-.-.-

_(Published 12/13/12)_


	5. High Five

**A/N:** This is my shortest chapter so far, at only 3,800-ish words (about 300 words short of my usual). Disclaimer is in my profile, and thanks to all who reviewed! Signed reviews receive responses and a hint towards the next chapter. And the next one is GOOD so you'll definitely want to review ;)

-.-.-

**Tuesday. September 2, 1975.**

Morning came quickly as Hermione was almost always up with the sun. With her dormmates still asleep, she stepped into the bathroom for a hot shower. Not ten minutes later she was clean, dry and dressed, excited for the first day of classes and a new chapter of this life. Hermione made a mental note to look up the exact date of the first life she would try to save.

It seemed Jubilee was the first to stir into wakefulness, begrudgingly traipsing into the bathroom for her own shower and Hermione took her escape to the Common Room.

Hermione tried to think of whom else from her future – or was it past? - she would be meeting. She forgot that Lucius Malfoy went to school with James and Lily, and then she remembered the memory Harry had relaid to her and Ron.

Snape.

_Oh, Merlin. This is the year he and Lily end their friendship. Do I save their friendship? _Can_ I save their friendship? Would that save her life, or ruin her future with James?_ Hermione had never felt so confused in her life, and wanted nothing more than to go back home, to Ron and Harry and her simple-minded, dentist parents.

But that was not a choice now. No, she had made the decision to save come here, to this timeline. Like the Gryffindor she was, she chose to save the Wizarding World. Hermione checked her watch and saw that breakfast would be served soon. Other students were already making their way out of the Common Room and to the Great Hall. She was used to waiting for Harry and Ron for breakfast, but this was just ridiculous.

A group of loud stomps was heard from the boys' staircase, and all four Marauders arrived. _Finally_, Hermione thought.

"Morning, 'Mione!" James called, "Ready for breakfast?"

"Only for the past half-hour, _Jamie_," Hermione teased. Sirius and Remus chuckled and James took it in stride.

"Only you can call me that," he said, winking at her. She still wasn't used to that – seeing almost-Harry wink. It was so strange, but she hoped to get accustomed to it. Eventually.

-.-.-

Professor McGonagall handed out their class schedules and they all looked over them.

Sirius did a facepalm, "Not _Double Divination_!" he groaned. Hermione checked her schedule; nope, no Divination. Instead, she had Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.

Hermione smirked, and Sirius leaned over the table to see her schedule. "How did you get out of this bullshit class?" he asked defensively.

"Don't curse, Sirius! And I…well… I walked out of my Divination class in my third year. I refused to take it," she explained awkwardly.

All four Marauders' mouths were agape.

"You did_ what_?"

"You can _do_ that?"

"Why didn't I think of it?!"

"It's brilliant!"

Hermione grinned, the blush leaving her cheeks quickly. The topic passed and they ate breakfast.

Jubilee, who sat next to Hermione, peeked at her schedule.

"Looks like we have the same schedule, Hermione! I don't take Divination either; my mum wrote to Dumbledore that it wouldn't help me at all in my future career, so there was no need for me to waste my time. He agreed and now I take more interesting classes," she said, buttering a piece of toast. Lily, next to Jubilee, rolled her eyes.

"Oh please, Jubes. You hated the professor! You said she was, and I'm quoting here, 'A big ol' crock who had nothing better to do than stare at your hand and say you'd be blind by the time you were 19.'"

Marian and Rose hurriedly sat down, grabbing as much food as possible before it all disappeared.

"Well, she is a crock! Everyone knows I'll be blind eventually!"

Hermione's interest was piqued. "What?"

Marian, with a mouth stuffed with eggs, chewed quickly and explained, "Jubilee's eyes are failing-"

"Can you please not put it that way?" Jubilee snapped at the blonde. She turned to Hermione again, "See my eyes?" Hermione did. They were the most beautiful shade of violet Hermione had ever seen. "It's a genetic defect. No magic can fix it, and there's no mention of it in any muggle books. My sister has it too," she motioned to the Hufflepuff table, where an exact replica of her sat in yellow and black robes. "Eventually, I will be completely blind. _Until then_," she looked pointedly at Marian, who looked sheepish, "I will enjoy my sight to the best of my ability."

Hermione looked at this girl with astonishment. She truly was a Gryffindor; no matter what life handed her, which would eventually be blindness, she continued to be brave and enjoy the life that she had.

The group finished eating and it was time for classes. Hermione enjoyed the day, although found it obnoxious to have to pretend she didn't know her way around. Either one of the Marauders or one of her dormmates walked with her everywhere, even the loo, in fear that she would get lost; it was very aggravating. Especially when the only thing Hermione wanted was some time alone.

-.-.-

"I think you missed the point that it's only the first day of classes. You're already doing homework!" James mentioned after dinner, lounging on the couch in the Common Room.

Hermione looked at her brother with a cocked eyebrow. "What's your point?"

James shook his head and laughed.

"No wonder she didn't have any friends," someone muttered under their breath. Everyone's head snapped towards the source.

Hermione's veins coursed with anger and a strange feeling of sadness.

_Dammit, Peter, I'm trying to help you! I'm trying to change everything so you don't have to be a coward._

James and Sirius stared at him, mouths agape and eyes wide. Hermione picked up her stack of books and stormed up the stairs. James and Sirius had ganged up on Peter, and he cowered in the corner.

"What the hell, Peter?!"

"Hermione has never been rude to you, why would you go and say something like that?!"

"That's my sister now, whether you like it or not. I won't have you or anybody else treating her like she is less than you."

"S-Sorry…" he whispered, visibly shaking.

Sirius opened his mouth again, but Remus climbed through the portrait hole.

"Finished my Prefect duties, I can finally-…what's going on?" he asked, a mix of confusion and worry on his face.

"Nothing," James spat, still glaring at Peter.

An awkward few minutes of silence between them sent Remus into deeper confusion. He treaded lightly on the floor, other students bustling in and out of the Common Room around them. When they were finally alone again, Remus felt the tension in the air.

"What's going on?" he pushed again.

Sirius fell into a plush chair near the fire, "Peter, you need to apologize." Peter looked ashamedly at the floor and nodded, too embarrassed to speak.

Remus' arms reached out, "Hello? What have I missed?"

-.-.-

Hermione collapsed on her bed, wanting nothing more than a good cry. Marian peeked over.

"Are you okay?" she asked genuinely. Her big blue eyes were like swimming pools and her wavy blonde hair reached her waist. She reminded Hermione of Luna in a way…then mentally shook her head. Luna's mum was a Ravenclaw.

Hermione nodded, but she wouldn't let the tears escape. Hadn't Peter just said the same thing Ron did in first year? Hadn't they grown close only a few days later? Hadn't they become best friends, eventually?

Rose, twisting her brown hair into a braid, sat on Hermione's bed. "Oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse." When Hermione gave her a look, she added, "Shakespeare."

Giving a small laugh, Hermione couldn't help but feel her spirits lighten. Taking that as a sign, Marian took a chance, "Why are you so upset, Hermione?"

The brilliant witch sat up, "I don't want to bore you. It was nothing, really."

"'_Nothing'_ doesn't make someone look as sad as you did," Rose replied.

Lily and Jubilee walked in, throwing their books on their respective beds.

"What's going on downstairs?" Jubilee asked.

Lily scoffed, "If Potter and his crew are having a falling out, I'd be pleased! They're so immature."

Jubilee, Rose, and Marian rolled their eyes with soft smiles playing on their lips.

_Lily and James are soulmates, I can tell,_ Rose mouthed to Hermione. They both grinned, fighting girly giggles from erupting.

"So really. What's going on with them?" Jubilee inquired again.

Hermione shrugged, giving a small sigh before explaining what had transpired downstairs.

"And they just let him get away with it?!" Lily shouted, angrier than ever at the boys.

"I don't know. I came up here right after it happened. I was too mad to stick around," she explained.

Lily's green eyes narrowed in the direction of the door, crossing her arms. "Oh, they will _pay_," she threatened, her cheeks turning red with fury.

"Can't we just drop it? I don't want to make a scene. Especially not on the first day. Please?" Hermione begged.

Lily huffed, her body deflating. She stared at Hermione for a second, her eyes filling with sympathy. "Alright. But I get to give them the Silent Treatment," the redhead finally said.

Marian giggled, "When _aren't_ you giving them the Silent Treatment?"

"Well, Remus isn't that bad!" Lily defended, the room filling with laughter.

And all was well again.

-.-.-

Deciding a trip to the library would make the day complete, Hermione went back down the stairs, passed the four Marauders, her dormmates in tow. The girls trudged angrily past the boys, books clutched to their chest and noses high in the air.

"Evans! Wait," James said, rushing towards her.

"Don't touch me, Potter!" she said, yanking her arm out of his reach.

Sirius rolled his eyes, Remus tried not to laugh and Peter shuffled towards Hermione.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, nearly a whisper. Hermione looked into his watery eyes and felt pity. He reminded her of Neville in a way: less powerful than the rest of his friends, weak physically and psychologically.

"As you should be!" Jubilee snipped. Hermione put a hand on her arm, an attempt to calm her down. Jubilee settled for glaring at the boy.

"It's fine," Hermione said shortly, shrugging lightly. "It's not like you were wrong."

Peter fidgeted; it was easy to tell he was uncomfortable.

"Well, you have friends now," Jubilee retorted, offering Hermione a friendly smile. Peter, still unsure of what to say, glanced at James, who was still trying to talk to Lily.

Lily stomped on his foot, hard. "You can't even stand up for your own sister, biological or not! You're such a bully, Potter! You don't care if people bully others because you're so busy doing it yourself. I can't stand to look at you, now let me go!"

James coiled back, "But I did stand up for her!"

"Lily, come on, let's go," Marian begged, grabbing the redhead by the strap of her bookbag and dragged her out of the Portrait Hole. Hermione sent James a sympathetic look before following out.

"Well… that was a nightmare," James said, running a hand through his hair.

Sirius and Remus burst into laughter, Peter following suit.

-.-.-

In the darkness of midnight, Hermione tiptoed from her dorm and into the 5th year boys' dorms. _"Lumos_," she whispered, the tip of her wand alighting.

For a moment, her eyes adjusted and she found James' bed. At the foot of it, she rifled through his trunk quietly and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders' Map.

Tiptoeing out, she made her way to the Room of Requirement. She took the long way, having to avoid both Filch and Peeves. It was much easier alone than when she, Ron, and Harry had to squeeze under it.

_I need a place to be alone_ she thought repeatedly, walking past the door three times. A door appeared and she opened it to see an empty room with only a plush chair, a table with a lamp on it, and a fireplace on the far wall.

She shrugged, "Good enough," she said to no one.

Hermione put the black clutch on the table and took a seat, sighing in both relief of making it safely and exhaustion from her long day. She opened the tiny bag, reaching for the stack of _Daily Prophets_ she packed months ago… or years in the future… Thinking things like that confused her. She brushed it off, digging deeper into the bag. Elbow-deep, she felt the familiar, fragile edges in her fingers and grabbed them.

They were out of order, from tipping over in transport she assumed. She took the extra quarter of an hour to arrange them chronologically.

_**December 23**__**, 1975  
**__FAMILY OF FOUR FOUND DEAD  
OFFICIALS FIND NO CLUES_

Hermione read the article once, twice, thrice before gathering all the information she could. It was a small Wizarding family, a husband, wife and their two young children. She didn't recognize the names, but scanned for keywords, anything at all that may help her. She circled '_nothing had been taken' _and pondered why they were targeted in the first place.

She had time. She had three and a half months to dig into the case and, hopefully, change the future.

_But how am I going to help a family I don't even know? Why did I bring this?_ she was angry and confused at herself, mostly because she couldn't figure out why she chose to bring along this article. An hour later, something clicked in her mind. It will be a test. If she can save this family, she has a chance at saving everyone.

"Including Harry's parents. And even Peter…" she whispered to the cold walls.

-.-.-

**Friday. September 19, 1975.**

"I hate Divination," Sirius groaned, repeatedly hitting his head on the Gryffindor table during lunch. "Hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it,"

James put his hand down before his friend could give himself a concussion, "Quidditch is coming up, mate. Can't have you in the Hospital Wing before then."

Sirius shot him a look, "Oh you're so sweet," he said sarcastically. "How has Evans not fallen for your charm yet?"

At the mention of Lily, James turned to her usual spot. She wasn't there.

"She's in the library," Hermione said, taking the empty seat next to Sirius. "She's absolutely frantic about O.W.L.'s, and I don't blame her. When are you four going to start taking it seriously?"

Sirius waved her off, and James looked like a sad puppy at Lily's empty seat. Remus smiled, looking pale and a bit peaky, "I'm already preparing!" he said proudly. Hermione returned the gesture.

"Well, it seems you _are_ the most responsible of the Marauders, Remus," she said with a nod.

There was a loud rush of shouts and high-pitched shrieks of horror. Everyone turned to see the Slytherin table, havoc was wreaking the students. Hands on their heads, looking from one another and back again, the rest of the student body burst into laughter.

The Slytherins' hair had turned an obnoxious, fluorescent shade of pink, but seconds later flashed to orange before changing to purple, green, teal, and continued to flash through all colors imaginable. All four Marauders feigned very innocent expressions and ate their lunch nonchalantly.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at them, keeping her lips shut from reprimanding them as well as laughing. Just when she went for some food, an owl dropped a small parcel in front of her. The brown owl took a crisp from James as he petted it.

"That's mum's owl. Wonder what she sent?"

The boys were all watching her, waiting for an answer. When she didn't move, "Well?" they pushed simultaneously.

She laughed lightly, untying the red ribbon from the small box to find a load of galleons and a slip of parchment. Hermione gasped at the small fortune as James picked up the note to read it aloud.

_Dearest Hermione,  
Happy birthday!_

"Hey, I didn't know it was your birthday!" he interrupted, looking offended. When he received an embarrassed smile, he continued reading.

_Charlus and I couldn't decide what to get you for your first birthday as part of the family. We hope you will spend this wisely on whatever you would like._

_We enjoy reading your letters…_

"Blah blah blah," James rattled, tossing the parchment to the side.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sirius asked.

"I… well, I forgot," Hermione replied.

Sirius began to pout and Remus was looking paler by the minute. The full moon was tomorrow, and the Wolfsbane potion hadn't been invented yet. Hermione wondered if it was in a textbook she may have brought with her…

"That is the worst excuse in the world, 'Mione. As your brother, it is my duty to ensure you have the best birthday ever, and this has only been a regular day!" James exclaimed.

Peter's watery eyes peered around the table. "Yeah, we're great at birthdays."

"Why don't we consider your prank on the Slytherins as my birthday present? It is, after all, your first prank of the school year," Hermione reasoned.

The four boys looked at each other, seeming to agree, "Deal," they chorused.

"But next year… it's going to be fantastic!" Sirius said, rubbing his hands together, grinning mischievously.

-.-.-

During Defense Against the Dark Arts, with Professor Dawson and the Slytherins, they were working on battle stances and the most effective way to trick your enemy. It was an interactive class and Hermione thoroughly enjoyed the teacher.

They were paired up randomly, and Hermione was against Elvin O'Conner, a fellow fifth year Gryffindor. He was just shy of six feet tall, but had muscles and a large build. She later found out he played as a Beater on the Quidditch team, and when she flung a simple stunning curse at him, he fell to the ground with a loud _thud._

"Very good, Miss LaBaugh!" Professor Dawson said enthusiastically. He continued watching the other students, observing their techniques and critiquing them where needed. The students who lost their match stood at the side of the classroom and the winners were paired up again.

Time and time again, Hermione won battles. She beat two Slytherins and another Gryffindor before finally finding herself paired up with Severus Snape.

His hair was long and greasy, his nose not yet as crooked as she would know him to have. They bowed to each other, Snape not as willing, and they dueled.

He was fast, she would give him that. She found herself deflecting more spells than she cast, but when he hit his foot on the leg of a chair, he stumbled to the ground and she thought she had the perfect opportunity to regain the upper hand until he was on his feet again.

"Go Hermione!" she heard Peter shout from the sidelines. She tried not to smile. Maybe she _could_ save him from betraying his friends…

She sent half a dozen spells at Snape and he dodged them all. _He would make an excellent Defense_ _professor,_ she thought.

Finally, after nearly ten minutes of dueling, the Professor called a tie. Hermione and Snape were both panting, and sweat had gathered at Snape's forehead.

"Excellent, you two! Ten points each! Was everyone watching? Mr. Snape stayed quick on his feet, and Miss LaBaugh concentrated on deflecting spells when she was attacked," he explained. "Never try to harm your opponent when you find yourself under an attack. It is best to block spells and curses when in danger before you cause injury."

Snape sneered at Hermione, but her face remained emotionless. She wondered if she could help him, too.

_My list of people to save is growing by the day. I'm in over my head!_

Class was dismissed shortly afterwards, the desks and chairs replaced with a simple spell by the teacher.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! When did you learn to duel like that?" Sirius asked, flabbergasted at her skill.

"Yeah, that was really great! I'm impressed," James agreed.

Hermione smiled, her chest filling with pride, and she felt the happiest she'd ever been since arriving to 1975. She had proved herself to the boys, and her dormmates were the nicest girls she'd met in her whole life, previous one included.

"You could give Peter here a few lessons though," Sirius added with a smirk.

"Hey!" Peter shouted, eyebrows furrowed. Everyone laughed, but Peter took it in stride. "Okay, so I'm not that great…"

The laughter continued, all the way to the Greenhouses. And yes, people stared.

-.-.-

Hermione was pulling on her pajamas as silently as possible. Her dormmates were asleep, or at least in bed, and she didn't want to disturb them.

After her teeth were brushed and she was comfortably in bed, she heard a hiss next to her.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione," Rose whispered. Hermione smiled in the dark.

"Happy birthday," Marian whispered, too.

"Happy birthday," Lily agreed, her voice low.

"Happy birthday, Hermione," Jubilee said loudly. The room erupted in giggles. "Well, if we're all awake, there's no need to whisper," she reasoned. Hermione clutched at her stomach; she hadn't laughed this much in one day since… well… since she could remember.

Even though there were no presents, or cake, or embarrassing singing of that obnoxious, ritualistic song, it had been the best birthday ever in Hermione's book.

-.-.-

On the other side of the tower, James, Sirius, and Peter had finally mastered it. They could finally transform into full Animagi. James was an elegant stag with antlers that stood at all angles like his hair. Sirius was a shaggy black dog, his fur thick and wavy like his real hair. The small, squeaking rat on the floor was Peter, running across the floor and under beds. He was faster as a rat, and somehow felt less pitiful. He had done it. He'd achieved a full human-animal transfiguration. Returning to their human forms, the boys high-five'd victoriously.

With the Invisibility Cloaks over them and the Marauder's Map in hand, the three boys sneaked outside the castle and towards the Whomping Willow.

"Here," Sirius whispered. "Any closer and we'll be a bloody mess on the grass."

Peter transformed, scurrying to the knot at the trunk of the great tree and it froze. The rat jumped into the hole there, followed by two raven-haired boys.

"We should transform before we go in. If anyone thinks they're in serious danger, run back up the passageway and back to the dorm. The Cloak is at the top of the passageway," James said. He looked at his two friends one last time and took a deep breath. "No one will think lesser of another if anyone wants to turn back now."

When no one moved, James nodded. "Alright mates. Let's get this party started."

-.-.-

_(Published 12/20/12)_


	6. Six of One

**A/N: **I just wanted to mention that there is a mistake in chapters 4 and 5. Lucius Malfoy is 6 years older than the Marauders, so he would only have been at Hogwarts for their first year. We are ignoring that for this fic. I was going to fix it and replace him with Regulus Black but my sister said I needed, "an unrelated outsider". So there you have it. Also, I have received quite a few reviews asking the same questions. I will answer them here for you.

- I update on Thursday, every Thursday, unless there is a family emergency of some sort. (Except today. Happy Christmas!)

- Hermione and Remus will have an interesting relationship, but **it is platonic**. Their relationship will be important for a future plot point. I can't reveal anything more without ruining it.

While the entire plot, character deaths, and major storyline is completely planned out, I am all up for suggestions of content! Feel free to offer ideas in your reviews Also, I'm looking for a British beta-reader. Grammar and spelling are not a necessity, I need help with Britspeak. I'm American and I do my best but I could use the help. PM me if you are interested! Now on to the good stuff! P.S. I hate long A/Ns too. I apologize!

**-.-.-**

**Friday. October 3, 1975**

Hermione was getting desperate. She was determined to save not only Lily and James, but also Snape, Peter, and the endless list of innocent victims she stashed in her clutch. With no idea where to start, she was contemplating her options.

_If Harry was in my place, I would be telling him to talk to Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore always knows what to do, and isn't he the reason I'm here anyway?_ she thought.

In between classes, she decided to see the Headmaster as soon as she got a chance to get away from everyone. For the time being, she was still being escorted around the castle, and doubted she'd be able to convince them she would be okay.

Hermione, Sirius, and Remus were walking up to the Common Room from lunch to switch their books out for their afternoon classes. Without thinking about it, Hermione took an extra step, right over the trick-step she had grown accustomed to skipping through her years of school with Harry and Ron.

Sirius exploded into laughter at the sight. Remus, looking healthier than she had seen him in the past two weeks, rose his eyebrows at his friend's outburst.

"Care to share the joke?" Remus asked, continuing up the staircase.

Finally catching his breath, Sirius nodded. "Hermione, you looked so silly taking that extra step. What was that about? Forget how to walk for a minute?" he asked, still chuckling.

But wasn't that the trick-step? Wasn't that the same step she'd trained herself to skip? Hermione looked down at it. Yes, that was definitely the one. The same step she had skipped for the past month as well. She tried to hide her confusion.

"No?" she replied, unsure of herself. She looked to Remus for help, but he only shrugged. Then she understood the step must have just been a regular step. It wasn't turned into a trick-…

_Oh_. Realization hit her like a brick wall. _It's not a trick yet. _Yet. And no one noticed because she was usually in the back of the crowd or so in a conversation no one had taken notice.

"I was just…practicing. I wanted to have a go at pulling a prank," she recovered skillfully.

Reaching the Portrait Hole, Remus gave the password and they stepped inside. Sirius stared at her.

"Are you going to tell us what it is?" he asked impatiently.

"Uhm, well… I was thinking I could do a Disillusionment Charm on that step and make it so it only _looks_ like a step… And if you don't step over it, you'll fall through, and your foot will get stuck. I'm still working out the kinks though, like how to actually make the step disappear," she elaborated.

Sirius looked like he could have kissed her. "You. Are. A. Genius! Hermione, that is bloody brilliant!"

She blushed, excusing herself up the stairs to switch out her textbooks. When she returned to the Common Room, Sirius was telling James all about the trick-step idea Hermione came up with.

James hugged Hermione, "You truly are my sister," he said with a laugh. "Planning jokes all your own… I'm so proud," he added, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

Hermione rolled her eyes with a smile.

-.-.-

It took a lot of convincing for Hermione to be by herself. She had told her dormmates as well as the Marauders that she could handle the castle. "You said so yourself, James: I'm a genius. I can find my way around."

James scrunched his face. "And if you don't? What if a Slytherin finds you instead? They're not nice, Hermione. You saw how Malfoy was on the train. He's not even the worst of them, and that's saying something."

She was inching her way towards the Portrait Hole and when Lily came through it, she took it as an escape to leave. _Lily would distract James long enough_, she thought with a sly smile.

The Extended black bag in her bookbag, Hermione made her way down to the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore's office. McGonagall was exiting, her hair in its usual tight bun.

"Oh, Miss LaBaugh. Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, Professor, can you get me into the Headmaster's office? I need to see him," she said.

The Scottish witch quirked an eyebrow, "The Headmaster is very busy, Miss LaBaugh. Can I help you instead?"

Hermione's shoulders fell in defeat. "Oh. No thank you, Professor."

She turned around and started to make her way back when Dumbledore came down his office.

"Hermione? Is there something you needed?" he asked. Hermione turned around, face lighting up in relief.

"Professor Dumbledore! I uhm… Can we speak in private?" she replied, nearly begging.

The Headmaster gave a small smile, his blue eyes twinkling behind those familiar half-moon glasses. "Of course, Miss LaBaugh. Why don't we step into my office… _Cockroach Clusters_," he said to the gargoyle, and it sprang aside instantly.

Up the stairs and into the comfortable chairs once more, Hermione felt like it could have been 1997 again. Save for the length of Dumbledore's beard and a few missing trinkets on the shelves, everything seemed the same.

The Headmaster sat in his throne-like chair, arms crossed on the desk in front of him. Hermione pulled the bookbag off her back and pulled the black bag out. She fumbled with the fabric for a moment, unsure if she was doing the right thing.

_I could wait a little longer… at least _try_ to save someone. Anyone…_ her mind wandered. Her fingers continued to play with the clutch, and Dumbledore cleared his throat lightly.

"Miss LaBaugh?"

Hermione jumped, "Right… Yes. Uhm… I just… I have something for you," she said simply, reaching into the tiny purse. The cool metal of the Hands of Fate shot chills up her arm, but she grabbed hold anyway and pulled it out.

Dumbledore didn't move. He didn't question or get impatient. He simply waited for Hermione to reveal what was troubling her. She let her fingers graze over the glass of golden liquid, staring at the beauty of it before placing it in his hand.

No words were spoken. No words were needed. A small tear escaped his eye, tumbled down his cheek and got lost in his beard. His fingers closed around the special Time-Turner and he looked up at her.

"Miss LaBaugh-"

"Actually, my last name is Granger. Or, it used to be before you sent me here. You gave this to me and I only thought it polite to return it to its rightful owner."

The old wizard let time run away from him. He looked at the Hands of Fate again, unspoken questions dangling from his lips.

"Professor Dumbledore?" she pulled him from his thoughts and back to earth, "Professor, I need help. I can't do this alone. I have names, stacks of newspapers full of names, of people I have to save. I have students that I'm supposed to help, to keep them from turning to the wrong side! I can't do it alone. I don't know what to do," Hermione was becoming emotional, and she took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

"Hermione, I am so… _so_ sorry. I asked you to leave your family and friends, everything you knew to come here. What year was it? How did it happen? What was the Wizarding World like?"

The emotion was building in her chest and she wasn't sure how long she could keep it in. She let out a choking sob and wiped the tears that cascaded from her cinnamon eyes.

"It was 1997. It was the end of my sixth year here – at Hogwarts," she elaborated. "Things were changing, everyone could tell."

Hermione wasn't sure she could go on. She could handle the sadness and confusion, but another thought came to her.

"Should I tell you this, Professor? Should I reveal the future to you?"

Dumbledore took a moment to think, placing the Time-Turner in his desk drawer and folding his hands on top.

"Yes, Hermione. I believe you can tell me. If you have come here with a mission, _my _mission, then you can tell me everything. You're here to change time, and that's what we are going to do."

Hermione nodded, taking another breath to gain her thoughts again before she recapped everything. "The Minister was in denial about You-Know-Who coming back to power-"

"_Back_ to power?" Dumbledore interrupted. Hermione nodded.

"Yes. After You-Know-Who fell in 1981. By Harry Potter?"

"Harry Potter lived?"

She nodded, almost worried for his sanity. "Yes, Lily and James had the protection of the Fidelis Charm, but their Secret-Keeper, Peter Pettigrew, ratted them out to V-Voldemort," she forced herself to say the name. She would have to get used to it. "Voldemort killed James and Lily, but when he tried to kill Harry, the curse rebounded. You-Know-… Voldemort was wounded, but not dead. He had the horcruxes as protection against truly dying. He lived off of one of our Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, for a few months…"

And there, in that grand office, Hermione told the Headmaster everything she could; from the Philosopher's Stone to the night of his own death, Hermione shared everything. By the end of the night, she was exhausted and parched. Dumbledore summoned a glass of water and she drank it, thankful for the cool liquid that soothed her throat.

He processed it, allowing the full story to seep into him as though he was a garden and her words were the rain.

"Would you allow me to… ah, no, perhaps that is too much to ask," he waved off his words like an irritating insect.

"Anything, Professor. I'm here because you asked me, _begged me_, to change the world. I need your help, and if you need something of me, you need only ask. I trust you. I told you that the night you gave me that," she motioned to the Hands of Fate in his drawer.

A thankful smile graced the old man's face. "You are an amazing girl, Miss LaB- Granger. I was going to ask to see your memories. I have a Pensieve, you see," he motioned to the cabinet to her right.

Hermione nodded, remembering Harry's replays of the Headmaster's memories with him. "I-… I don't know how to do that, but I'm willing to learn."

"A few at a time, I think," he said, walking to the Pensieve. "Don't want to overdo it. It can be a very exhausting thing, retrieving memories. I'll do it the first few times, but eventually I would like you to learn. It's a wonderful skill to have."

Dumbledore placed the tip of his wand at her forehead. "Choose a memory - any memory - that you wish to share with me."

Hermione closed her eyes, concentrating on a memory she thought might be of importance. Flipping through her memories as though it were a catalog, she decided on the memory of going through the tasks on the third floor – Fluffy, the keys, the Chess Board, everything.

She gave a slight nod, motioning to the old wizard that she was ready. With both their eyes closed, a silvery wisp, like smoky liquid, pulled from her temple and into the Pensieve.

"Thank you, Hermione. Truly. Thank you."

Offering a small smile, Hermione rubbed her head in exhaustion.

"Best get to bed now, Miss LaBaugh," Dumbledore said. "And best to keep your identity a secret, wouldn't you agree?" She nodded, understanding his cryptic message. This secret was still hers to bear, alone.

With a scribble on a parchment, the Headmaster gave her a note to return to Gryffindor Tower without being penalized for being out after curfew.

She descended from the office and began to make her way to bed. Her eyes were dry and her legs felt like they weighed a ton. If she wasn't so tired, she would have felt immensely relieved to have finally told someone the truth about her. She made it to the fourth floor corridor only to be stopped by a Slytherin Prefect she didn't recognize.

"And what do you think you're doing out of bed, little Gryffindor?" he asked, swaggering towards her. He had a broad build and gleaming white teeth that were entirely too crooked to be appealing. Dirty brown hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it back.

"I have a note from Professor Dumbledore," she replied, holding up her hand to realize… it was empty. She'd dropped it in fatigue. He didn't take notice to her words, but grabbed her wrist and pinned her against a wall.

"Do you know what I do to little girls who are out of bed past curfew?" he growled in her ear. Her wand was in her back pocket, if only she could reach it…

His leg was between hers, and his entire body weight leaned on her. He was twice her size, she was struggling to catch her breath.

"I'm just going to bed-"

The Slytherin growled again, "I know you are. You're going to bed with _me_."

With all the energy she could muster, she pushed him off and reached for her wand, but not quick enough. He was fast for his size, and he clutched at her wrists, holding them together over her head.

"Get off of me," she begged, too tired to move much more. "I won't do it again, I swear. Just let me go…"

"What are you doing, Flint?" a voice from behind him called. The large boy kept his body against Hermione's, turning his head to see the interruption.

"None of your bloody business, Snape. Finish your rounds and get back to the dungeons," Flint exerted his masculinity against Hermione and she whimpered in fear. Her eyes stung with unshed tears; she refused to let this boy see what the fear he had instilled in her. He wanted control, and crying would only push him farther.

"You're in the middle of the castle trying to feel up some Gryffindor? What happens when Filch or a teacher find you, huh? Use your brain, Flint," Snape reasoned. With a final growl in anger, the broad boy let off of Hermione and pushed her to the side.

_Oh thank Merlin!_ Hermione's mind screamed, although she stumbled to stand properly. Flint stormed away, presumably to find another victim.

She wiped her eyes quickly, removing all evidence of her emotions. "Th-Thanks," she whispered.

The greasy-haired Snape said nothing, only turned on his heel and left her to her own devices. With a final breath to calm herself down, she walked as quickly as possible to Gryffindor Tower and collapsed on the scarlet couch, fully clothed and fatigued.

-.-.-

**Saturday. October 4, 1975.**

"Hermione," someone whispered her name, an attempt to wake her. "Hermione?" They were nudging her now, but exhaustion had its grip on her and she slept on.

-.-.-

The sun was high in the sky when she finally woke, and Hermione frantically looked at her watch for the time, and for her black clutch. It was lunchtime, and the tiny bag was safe underneath her. With a sigh of relief, she ran upstairs to put the purse in its safe place, showered and went down for her first meal of the day.

"I thought you died right there on the couch!" Marian exclaimed when Hermione sat across from her at the Gryffindor table. The Great Hall was abnormally quiet for a Saturday, and Hermione looked around at the lack of students.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, placing some finger sandwiches on her plate.

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend! Didn't you hear?" Marian replied. "I stayed behind today; Alden said he didn't particularly want to go today. The boys said they'll come back around-" she checked the silver watch on her wrist, "anytime now, actually."

"I'm sorry but… who's Alden?"

"Oh, sometimes I forget you're new," Marian laughed, "Alden Moore is my boyfriend. He's in our year, I'm surprised you haven't noticed him. Actually, come to think of it, no I'm not. He's kind of quiet. A man of few words," she added dreamily. Hermione offered her a smile, happy that her friend was happily in love.

Sirius plopped down next to her, "About time you woke up…what'd you call her earlier, Marian?"

"Sleeping Beauty. Muggle children's tale," the blonde replied. Sirius nodded.

"Right. That. Stay up late last night, Hermione? Did you have a _date_?" he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

Hermione snorted in her goblet of pumpkin juice, the memory of her run-in with Flint making her feel nauseous. "No. I was in the library looking for a book on that Potions essay that's due," she lied easily.

"Due in _two weeks_," he replied. "How's that prank coming along?"

She shrugged, "I er… I forgot about it. I'll work on it, I promise."

Sirius was satisfied, "Good. Let's go to Hogsmeade!"

"Uhm… Sirius? I'm afraid you'll have to go without me. I don't think I have permission…" Hermione bit her lip.

"What do you mean? Didn't Mrs. P. give you the form?" She shook her head silently. "Well, that's too bad then," he said nonchalantly. "C'mon, I'll walk you back to Gryffindor Tower then."

Marian gave them a wave and a smile, enjoying the last of her lunch innocently. Hermione saw right through Sirius' act. As soon as they were out of the Great Hall, he led her up to the fifth floor to a statue with a one-eyed witch.

"Sirius?" she said, staring at it awkwardly.

He put his finger on her lip to silence her. It felt weird that he was doing something so intimate, or at least in her mind. No one had ever touched her lips before, and that was a weird thought to have. _Sixteen and never been kissed,_ her mind taunted.

With a quick look around, Sirius tapped his wand on the statue and whispered, "_Dissendium_." The one-eyed witch opened at its side like a tiny doorway, and Sirius squeezed through it, taking Hermione's hand in his and led her through it.

His hands were warm and soft, not at all what she'd imagined. Not that she'd imagined holding his hand, but he was a Quidditch player, and weren't they supposed to have rough hands from grasping their brooms, throwing Quaffles, and swinging clubs?

The tunnel was dark and narrow, stifling claustrophobia began to set in. This was wrong. Hermione had reprimanded Harry for sneaking into Hogsmeade and now she was doing that exact same thing.

"Sirius, I don't-"

"What? You didn't expect me to leave you out of all the fun, did you?" he asked. She could almost hear the smirk on his face, no matter the lack of light. "C'mon, it'll be fun! No one has to know."

Hermione couldn't quench the guilt that had nestled into her stomach, "I don't know, Sirius…"

Sirius stopped walking, turned to face her and took her other hand in his, "Do you trust me?"

His face was close to hers; even in the dark she knew they were only inches away from each other. She could feel his breath on her face and found it not at all unpleasant. "Y-yes," she whispered, finally releasing the breath she didn't know she had been holding. _If only you knew how much_.

Sirius continued to walk, "It'll be fine, I promise. And if you don't like it, I'll bring you back. Deal?"

Hermione contemplated it for a moment. _I'm uncomfortable with this because of Harry… but I didn't want Harry to do it because we thought Sirius was trying to kill him… and there were Dementors everywhere. This isn't the same; there's no one trying to kill me, and no one to see me._ Deciding it was a fair arrangement, Hermione nodded, "Deal."

Sirius squeezed her hand in reassurance as he continued the last hundred meters to their exit.

When they were finally in Honeydukes, surrounded by other students, Hermione felt camouflaged. "Oh, and don't forget to get something for Marian; her birthday is on the thirty-first," Sirius said over the raucous crowd of shoppers.

"But I didn't bring any money," she thought sadly. She still had the small fortune that Dorea and Charlus gave her for her birthday, and it sat safe in her trunk in Gryffindor Tower.

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other," he replied, brushing it off, "James or I can spot you."

Hermione scrunched her nose at the thought, but figured she could pay them back as soon as they got back to the castle.

After grabbing a handful of Blood Pops, Marian's favorite, and some Chocolate Frogs in memory of Ron, the two made their way out to find James, Remus, and Peter.

"Marian loves Muggle romance novels. Do any of the stores here sell those?" Hermione asked, feigning innocence. "I guess not," she added when Sirius took too long to answer. "It's okay, I'll find something else."

The other three Marauders were found outside of Zonko's, pockets overflowing with goodies.

"I can't believe Mum forgot to sign your slip, 'Mione. That's not like her. She's usually very on top of things," James said, sucking on a Fizzing Whizbee.

"Yeah, like on top of your _dad_," Sirius joked. James elbowed him in the stomach.

"Yeah? Well your mum's so fat, her Patronus is a cake," James retaliated.

Sirius burst into laughter, allowing the others permission to laugh at the awkward jest. "Your mum's so fat, the Sorting Hat put her in all four Houses!"

"Your mum's so dumb, she brought syrup to a Quidditch match because she heard there'd be Quaffles."

As funny as their jokes were, Hermione was wondering if the boys were still sane.

"I'm just going to…find the girls…" she trailed, backing away slowly.

James tossed her a pouch of coins, still laughing at the joke.

Rose, Jubilee, and Lily were found in Gladrags Wizardwear, searching through racks of clothes and rows of jewelry to find the perfect gift for Marian.

"Do you think she'll like this one?" Jubilee held out a bright yellow peasant top.

Lily made a face. "Definitely not; it will clash with her hair. Besides, she hates yellow."

Jubilee put the garment back, catching sight of Hermione. "Hey! I was wondering what kept you. Welcome to Hogsmeade! Now quick, help us find something for Marian."

"I don't really know what Marian likes, besides Muggle romance novels," Hermione replied.

"I was going to get her some new Potions books. That girl loves Potions, for some odd reason," Rose said. "I swear, she just might be the next Potions Mistress at Hogwarts!"

Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing. _That would be Snape's position, actually_ her mind answered.

Eventually, after a stop at Tomes and Scrolls, a small bookshop, and Dominic Maestro's, the music store, the girls all found a present for their friend and headed to do their own shopping. Lily spotted James and immediately did a 180 degree turn, covering her face. "I… I just forgot I have to get something for Severus. I don't know if there will be another Hogsmeade visit before his birthday! I'll see you lot at dinner!"

Jubilee scoffed, "I don't know why she's friends with that weirdo."

"But men are men; the best sometimes forget," Rose said with a sigh.

When Hermione's eyebrows rose in question, Jubilee and Rose explained, "Shakespeare," simultaneously. The look on Jubilee's face was pricelessly annoyed.

The wind was picking up a bit, and the swarm of students was dwindling down. People were heading back to the castle, and Hermione was worried there wouldn't be a big enough crowd in Honeydukes to sneak back through their cellar.

James strolled over to them, watching Lily hurry off with a puppy-dog expression. "Where's she off to?" he asked desperately. Before they could answer, Sirius took Hermione's elbow and dragged her off.

"We've got to get you back in the castle, before too many students have gone," he whispered.

"I was just looking for you," she reassured, "and you're hurting me. Sirius, let go." She didn't give him a chance to comply, instead ripped her arm from his grasp. "I can walk."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "You can assert your feminine dominance another time, we have to go!"

"Don't speak to me like one of your little floozies. _I_ actually have a brain, you know."

Hermione wasn't sure where this aggravation was coming from. She had really enjoyed their walk from the castle to Honeydukes, but now all she felt was belittled.

"I didn't say you were!" Sirius defended, his eyebrows furrowing in anger, "And who says I want you to be?" He continued to lead her, through the crowd on the beaten path and into the sweet shop.

"What, now I'm not good enough for you?"

Sirius turned, placing his entire hand over her mouth and staring into her eyes. They stood like that for a moment before he spoke, "Please stop. You're only making a fool of yourself," Hermione glared at him, attempting to open her mouth to speak, but his hand was still covering it. "You're my best mate's sister, whether I wanted to date you or not is inconsequential: you're off limits."

Hermione's expression softened. What did _that_ mean? If she wasn't James' adopted sister, would he…like her? No… it couldn't be.

-.-.-

_(Published 12-25-12 Happy Christmas!)_


	7. Temporary Author's Note

**IMPORTANT A/N:** Dear readers,

While I realize it's been six months since I updated (after promising to update every Thursday) I really do have a good excuse. But before I touch on that...

I have not given up on this story. I will _never_ give up on this story. This has been an inspirational story to me and I solemnly swear to finish it! Updates will be slower, but Hands of Fate is not a lost cause!

Here's a low-down on my absence:

In the beginning of February, I left my husband in the middle of the night, taking our two daughters with me, as I feared for our safety. I have my best friend to thank for her urging support on that. I moved out (say hi Twinnie!), got a job (graveyard shift, thanks to my mom), and take care of my kids.

My plate is a bit full. I still love writing and I will not give it up, particularly not this story. To new readers, I truly hope you will not turn away from this story because of my personal setback. To my faithful readers, I hope you will continue to watch for updates and review.

I will remove this A/N and replace it with a real chapter within the next week or two

Last thing before I go... I am asking everyone to _please_ take the poll in my profile. It takes ten seconds and I need your input in order to update this story!

Thank you for your patience and understanding,

_Amelia "Ami" Mendal_


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